The Mage's Vigil
by Elessie
Summary: Sequel to Broken.  Elly Surana must deal with a role she is not really cut out for: Warden-Commander of Vigil's Keep.  Further complicating matters is the presence of the templar turned warden Cullen, who has problems of his own.
1. Beneath the Vigil

Dragon Age: Origins and Dragon Age: Awakenings content belong to Bioware.

* * *

**Beneath the Vigil**

Elly grumbled as she trailed along after Oghren through the basement of Vigil's Keep. "Darkspawn. They're like rats. No matter how many you kill they just keep popping up…"

"Maybe if we were to breed some very large cats," Anders began, trailing behind her.

Elly waved him to silence. "Hold on, do you hear something?" The three of them followed a wooden thunking noise down a gently curving corridor. Waiting for them at the end were three darkspawn. The monsters quickly abandoned their efforts to break through the barricaded door and pulled free their weapons.

For three Grey Wardens, the monsters were simple to dispatch. Elly went to check the blocked door while the other two surveyed the hall. "Looks like we weren't the first to do battle here," the dwarf grunted.

Elly knocked on the closed door. "Hello? Is there anyone in there?" She gave the door a shove, but it wouldn't budge. "If you're in there, stand back. I'm going to-" She shrieked and launched herself backwards as the door burst into flames. "_Anders_!"

"What?" her fellow mage asked innocently. "You're hardly singed at all!"

"There could be people behind there!" she snapped as she got to her feet, brushing Maker only knew what from her robes. "Save it for the darkspawn." Taking a calming breath, she summoned frost to cool the sputtering flames and cautiously stepped inside.

At first glance, she thought only corpses cluttered the room. A couple Grey Wardens and a handful of the keep's guards had crawled or been dragged into the room. The remains of what might have been crates full of old rations littered the doorway. She kicked some of the debris out of the way and shuffled farther into the room. "They must've been trying to stop the darkspawn at the source down here. Only there weren't enough of them, and they had to fall back. The darkspawn must have come in large numbers to…"

Her words trickled away into silence as the body sitting propped in the far corner lifted its sword. She paused cautiously, taking in the Grey Warden armor and the blood still seeping from the shoulder joint. Not a ghoul then. "There's someone still alive in here!"

She carefully picked her way across the littered room to the wounded Grey Warden. There was something familiar about him, even under all the blood, both his own and the darkspawn's. Recognition clamped around her chest like a vise. "Dear Maker," she managed to gasp out. "Cullen? Are you alright?"

"Well fart me a lullaby, isn't this that templar fellow you played slippery nugs with?" Oghren sniggered to himself as he watched Elly blush from her neck to her hair. "Hah, Zev was right. That is so easy."

Elly glared at the dwarf and - by force of habit - summoned the tiniest bit of frost to cool her heated face. The last thing she needed was more people playing the 'Make the Hero of Fereldan Blush' game. She tilted her staff in Oghren's direction but it only made him laugh harder.

Though, perhaps she didn't have to worry about Anders picking up the game. Elly took in the other mage's shocked expression; he seemed far less amused by her reaction. "A templar! And you did _what_?"

Oghren snorted and nudged the human mage knowingly. "You know. Waxed the brass trumpet, polished the old anvil, greased the-"

"Shut up!" Elly hissed at Oghren, but her attention had returned to the wounded templar turned Warden. He looked haggard, weakened by multiple wounds and the strain of being stuck in the cellars for too long. "Cullen? It's me, Elly. Let me heal you and then we can get you up to the infirmary."

The sword point followed her as she drew closer, but after a moment's hesitation it dipped to the ground with a muffled clang. "Can't be a hallucination," Cullen muttered, his bleary gaze drifting from the approaching mage to settle on the snickering dwarf. "Far too embarrassing."

Elly grimaced and nodded in silent agreement. Sliding the sword out of her way, she knelt beside him and waited until he nodded his consent. Only then did she begin the complicated process of extricating his dented shoulder piece.

"Already stripping him down, eh Warden?" Oghren elbowed Anders in the hip. "Maybe we should give them some privacy, huh?"

"Yes!" Elly blurted out. She blushed again, scrambling to correct herself before the dwarf could run with that fumble. "I mean, no, I don't need privacy. But you can go and tell someone we need a stretcher down here." Oghren snorted and shuffled out the door, a narrow-eyed Anders in tow. When Cullen tried to protest, she shushed him. "You've been stuck down here for a couple days. You need to rest. And there's no way I'm letting you climb those stairs. Don't even try to argue with me on that point, or I'll turn you into a toad."

Despite the pain from his crushed shoulder, Cullen's lips twitched. "You can't turn anyone into a toad," he pointed out.

"Damn. That always worked on the politicians." Elly finally worked the deformed armor piece free and began to prepare a healing spell for the now exposed shoulder. She sucked air through her teeth as she took in the condition of the wound. "This doesn't look good. I can repair the basic damage but you'll need to rest it or it won't mend properly."

Cullen craned his neck to try to get a better view of his own shoulder. "So is that what you've been doing at court? Threatening to turn people into toads?"

Elly didn't answer as she went through the familiar motions of the healing spell. She gave him an apologetic look as she prodded the shoulder a few more times to be sure, then nodded in satisfaction. "That pretty much sums up my job after the initial workload tapered off," she finally admitted, in response to his question. "With Anora and Eamon around, Alistair didn't need much help from me once things settled down some. Not that I was ever much help in the first place. During the rebuilding I was good at making lists of what needed to be dealt with. But dealing with people…" She shook her head. "Mostly I just attended meetings and looked scary. Maybe dipped my staff threateningly, that sort of thing."

Cullen frowned, settling himself more comfortably now that he could move his arm. "But you didn't actually cast anything at them, did you?"

"No, of course not!" Elly sat back away from her patient with a sigh. She struggled not to let her disappointment at the question show on her face. "A terrified diplomat might be useful, but you can't do much with an ice sculpture. Nice decorations for awhile, but then they start to melt and it's such a mess."

He studied her sternly for a moment, and she could tell he was forming some kind of reprimand about how magic is not something to jest about. But then he stopped and shook his head slowly. "That's one of King Alistair's 'jokes' isn't it?"

"Perhaps." Elly fussed with her robe, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. She tried to pull the slit sides of the robe's skirt together so he couldn't see she was wearing lightweight cloth pants underneath. Besides, she told herself, it was nothing to do with his suggestion; it was just a bit chilly down here. That's all it was.

Her heart seemed to be pounding loud enough to alert any remaining darkspawn in the area. And she couldn't blame it all on anxiety. "Look, Cullen, about what happened with the archdemon, I-"

"Better get decent!" a voice bellowed from down the hallway. "We're coming with that stretcher, and there's not room for both of you on it if yer all tangled up!" A moment later Oghren appeared around the bend, leading the team of men with the stretcher. "Hope we're not, heh heh, interrupting anything too steamy."

"That's enough, Oghren." Elly struggled to keep her voice steady in front of the Vigil's Keep men. It was a hard task, but not because of Oghren's inappropriate comments. Even before they'd been interrupted, Elly had seen Cullen's barriers go back up. The mention of the archdemon had triggered that stone-like templar mask of his, and once again she found herself questioning whether agreeing to Morrigan's request was the right decision.

As Cullen was carefully shifted onto the stretcher and carried out, Elly retrieved her staff and marched herself over to Oghren. She scrunched her face up into something unreadable; it wasn't a smooth unflinching mask like Cullen's, but it was the best she could do. "Where did Anders get off to? There's still darkspawn to kill."


	2. Sweet Rosie

**Sweet Rosie**

Elly found her way to the infirmary just as the medical staff was changing shifts. She was still filthy from working her way through the cellars, but Sergeant Maverlies had seemed impressed with the progress they'd made. After a quick check on those in the infirmary, she was finally going to have a nice, long bath, followed by a good night's rest.

It didn't take her long to pick out Cullen's cot, but one of the nurses made it there first. Elly halted a couple rows away and watched the human woman fuss with Cullen's pillows. The woman flipped a loose strand of long, golden hair behind her shoulder and gave the injured man a teasing grin. "Didn't I tell you we've got to stop meeting like this? You don't have to keep injuring yourself just to see me, you know."

Cullen gingerly rearranged himself on the cot, settling into the recently fluffed pillows with a sigh. "Thank you, Rosie," he murmured, his voice thick with fatigue.

The nurse's fingers wove a fitful dance; her hands were twitching for a job to do. "Can I do anything else for you? There's some fresh poultices made up, and if your bandage needs changing…"

"No, I think I just need to sleep. Thank you for your concern." He was slightly less ashen now, but still looked completely drained from his ordeal. He closed his eyes, already on the way back to unconsciousness.

"Alright. If you need anything at all, you just call me over, okay?" Rosie gave him a comforting pat on his good shoulder, and then spun around to find Elly watching her very intently. "Oh, I'm sorry; I didn't hear you come in. Um…" Her wide, blue eyes took in the mage's dirty, bloodstained robe with a concerned frown. "Where are you injured?"

Elly eyed her soiled robe as well. "Oh, no, that's not my blood. I just came to see how the patients were doing."

"Well you shouldn't come in here all dirty like that. There are sick people in here." Rosie gestured unnecessarily at the infirmary around them. Elly thought she could nearly see the thought process going through the human woman's head: She's an elf, but not wearing servant's clothing. Aren't those mage robes? I hope she doesn't turn me into something slimy! Wait, isn't the new commander supposed to be a red-haired elven mage… "Um, Warden-Commander?" the nurse squeaked.

Elly supposed she should be grateful that Rosie had only vocalized the last part of the process. Most humans weren't so tactful. "Yes, look, I'll take my dirt out of your infirmary as soon as you give me an update. How is everyone and um, Cullen, doing?"

Rosie frowned at her phrasing, but perhaps she simply chalked it up to the fact that Cullen was the patient she'd just left. "Well, it looks like what few are still alive will pull through. But most of them won't be fit for active duty for several weeks at the minimum. Cullen's shoulder shouldn't take quite as long to heal, apparently some mage found him and- Oh, that was you, I suppose."

Elly nodded reluctantly. "If there's anyone else that needs to be seen to, I can look at them tomorrow. I'm too drained to cast another spell tonight." She waited a beat as she remembered this beautiful, young human woman flirting with Cullen. "That's the danger of spirit healing, you know. You have to be ever so careful when you're dealing with spirits from the Fade. There's always the chance you'll get a demon just pretending to be a helpful spirit. That never ends well." Elly stifled a grin as Rosie backed away, placing another row of cots between them. It was petty, yet satisfying.

"Oh, I don't think we'll need your help. Nothing that dire here," Rosie hurried to assure her. "It was, um, kind of you to heal Cullen's shoulder though. All bruised and swollen like that, it must have been close to shattered."

"It was," Elly admitted soberly. "The armor was so dented I wasn't sure I'd ever get it off."

"Well, that's Cullen for you, always rushing into battle, leading the charge." Rosie tossed an affectionate grin towards the sleeping man. "He's the bravest man I know. Not afraid of anything, even those horrid darkspawn. He's always volunteering to go out after the bands of 'em when they're sighted. A real hero."

Elly frowned and looked towards the man as well. Suddenly she was more concerned with what the nurse was saying about Cullen than what she might be doing around him. "Brave? I suppose so, but it doesn't sound…very healthy."

"Well, he does end up in here a lot. Can't say I mind though, cute fellow like that." Rosie winked, and Elly felt her fingers involuntarily tighten on her staff. "And we always get him patched up."

Elly slowly forced her fingers to a looser grip. "I didn't mean physically." Faced with the nurse's baffled look, she merely shook her head. "Never mind." After all, she thought, who am I to argue about heroism versus insanity. Perhaps all heroics are some form of mental instability. Nobody would call our assault on the archdemon sane or rational. "I should retire for the night; I have a long list of things to do tomorrow."

"Of course, Warden-Commander," Rosie muttered, and her confused expression slowly slipped into one of open admiration as she turned back to watch the wounded man sleep.

Somehow Elly managed to turn away from the nurse without setting her hair on fire even a little. The extra time it took to find her quarters in the strange, new keep did nothing to improve her mood. "Bloody humans." Instead of the relaxing bath she'd planned, she chucked off her clothing, splashed some cold water over face, and curled up in the unfamiliar bed for a restless night.


	3. Ransom

**Ransom**

"So why did this Ser Whatshisname ask you to do this?"

"I'm not sure, Oghren." Elly slowed to a halt, studying the old chantry ruins ahead of them. "I guess because he doesn't have the thirty sovereigns to pay the ransom."

Nathaniel, recently recovered from his Joining, eyed the Warden-Commander uncertainly. He turned to Oghren and Anders for explanation. "Does she just grab her coin purse and rush out any time someone writes her a letter?"

Oghren snorted. "Sorta like she gives thieves some nice loot and sends them off for a holiday?"

"I wasn't thieving, those things belong to my family," Nathaniel argued. "Besides, I ended up coming back."

Anders spread his palms towards the sky, as if only the Maker could shed some light on that puzzle. "Yes, why exactly did you do that?"

"Enough!" Elly interrupted. "I did check it out first, you know. He's a vassal of Amaranthine."

"Or at least someone who knows the name of a vassal of Amaranthine," Anders added.

"It was sealed! Maker's breath, can we get on with this now? In case you didn't notice, we're already out here." Elly pointed with her staff at one of the few walls still intact. "They're probably back there somewhere."

Her companions weren't ready to let the matter drop. "Where did you get so much coin, anyway?" Nathaniel asked her.

Elly fiddled with her coin purse, which was fairly bulging even without the money she'd left back at the keep. "When you're saving the land from the Blight, you come across a lot of sturdy old chests, for some reason. Zevran wanted to open them all. Something about looking for shiny metal bars." She shrugged helplessly at their skeptical expressions. "Don't look at me, I didn't ask why he wanted them." She took a deep breath. "Then you have the Deep Roads, full of gems and lost magical items. Old ruins, abandoned keeps, forests full of spirits, you name it. We nearly had to get a wagon just to carry it all back. And then of course," her voice trailed off to a degree, "there are the bodies."

Nathaniel looked sick. "Bodies?"

"Well, yes," Elly admitted, looking slightly embarrassed. "When we have to kill things, people sometimes, or come across people the darkspawn have already killed…"

Nathaniel stared at her in disbelief. "So that's what being a hero is about? Looting corpses?" He eyed the so-called Hero of Fereldan with displeasure.

"I don't know anything about being a hero." Elly turned away from them coldly. "Being a Grey Warden is about doing whatever it takes to defeat the darkspawn. Now let's go, they've surely seen us by now."

The four Wardens trudged along in silence until they reached the crumbling chantry. Before Elly could call out, a group of bandits stepped out from the far wall. Archers trained arrows on them, and the rest of the group pulled out swords or knives.

A man in armor less shabby than the rest, presumably the leader, came forward. "Another step and poor lady Eileen dies." He scanned the well-armed group before him. "Where's Lord Bensley? The deal was he'd give us the money himself."

Elly wavered uncertainly. Should she look non-threatening so they wouldn't kill the hostage? Or try to look like someone they'd think twice about messing with? "Uh," she stalled, "let us see the girl."

A terrified looking young woman was brought out at knife point. Elly looked to her fellow Grey Wardens for help, but they merely stood there, waiting for her to do something. "Right, of course." She pulled her coin purse open and started counting out coins. "As you demanded, thirty sovereigns. Now let her go."

The kidnappers took in the size of her coin purse with glee. "Oh, we'll take that and more. Over your dead body." The leader, eyes shining with greed, waved his men to attack.

"Oh, bloody nug-lickers," Elly swore, scrambling to work a spell. She'd have to be careful not to hit the girl…the girl…the girl had crumpled to the ground. Bright red blood, glinting in the sunlight, was running from her neck, staining her dress and the verdant grass beneath her.

Elly barely registered the brigand wiping his bloody knife on the girl's dress. She didn't notice Oghren raising his axe to charge their leader, Nathaniel lining up a shot, nor Anders raising his staff. She was summoning an ice so cold it burned. She unleashed it in deadly blizzard. Snow and needlelike shards of ice whipped about the kidnappers. Their motions slowed, their blades grew brittle, and they cried out in pain as they tried, ever so slowly, to escape the unrelenting, unassailable, bitter, biting cold.

Anders was struggling to protect Oghren. The dwarf had rushed unheeding into the gale, forgetting everything but rage as he struggled to sink his axe into the leader of the villains. Nathaniel was easily picking off the barely moving targets. The battlefield quickly began to look less crowded.

Elly finally relented when her own staff began to ice over; it stung her finger even through gloves. She shook her head as if waking from a daydream.

Oghren came stomping back to the party, waving Anders away when the human mage attempted to check him for wounds. The dwarf grumbled at Elly, "You and your bleeding ice."

Anders supported the gripe with an exaggerated nod. "I know. I thought redheads were supposed to be, you know, fiery." The air didn't merely _seem_ to drop several degrees, it _actually_ dropped several degrees. "Right. Shutting up now."

It was a long, silent march back to Vigil's Keep.


	4. Beyond Vigil's Walls

**Beyond Vigil's Walls**

Elly was walking the perimeter of the keep, noting what damage still needed to be repaired, when Anders stumbled across her. "Oh, hello there," he greeted her nervously. "Don't suppose you're feeling any better? I can get out of your way…"

She made a gesture of peace. "No, I'm sorry about before, at the cove. That poor girl… But I should've had better control."

When no threat was presented, Anders relaxed. He waved off her apology. "Oh well, you're only human." She looked at him. "Er, elven. You know what I mean." He quickly moved on. "So what are you doing out here? Relaxing walk?"

"As if we don't do enough walking," Elly grimaced. "You'd think stopping the Blight would at least earn you a horse."

"Ah, but then we'd all have to trail along behind you and try to avoid stepping in the piles. No good, really."

Her lips twitched at the image. "I suppose not. You didn't say what you were doing out here."

"Ah, well… Me, I don't care to be stuck behind walls. Out here, I actually feel free."

"You must've really hated it at the Tower," Elly said quietly.

Anders looked at her like she'd sprouted horns. "You even have to ask? You know what it's like there. Aren't you glad you got out?"

Elly shook her head, her voice softening even as his raised in volume. "It's not the same for me, Anders. The Circle…the library…it was safety."

"Oh, right." Sarcasm twisted his voice. "Because mages are big scary monsters about to kill everyone first chance they get."

"No," Elly sighed. "I didn't mean for everyone else, I meant _I_ felt safe. You've… I take it you've never been to the alienage in Denerim?"

His anger faded into puzzlement. "Well, no. It didn't exactly seem like a good place to hide."

"Being treated like a dangerous person beats being treated like you're not a person at all. Like you're dirt, and just as likely to get stepped on." Images of the alienage during her childhood and her later return rose unbidden to mind. "It's not the same for everyone, but for me, the mages were more of a family than my actual family was."

Anders mulled over her words. "I suppose…I can see your point. But the _templars_ don't treat us like people. They act like we're already abominations and need to be kicked into submission."

"Not all of them," Elly said under her breath. Raising her voice, she continued, "Anders, I don't believe it's the templars that are the problem." The human mage stiffened in anger, but she grabbed his robe before he could turn away. "Wait, hear me out. Alistair told me what it's like for them. The Chantry indoctrinates young children. They keep the templars under control by addicting them to a substance only the Chantry can supply." She spread her arms helplessly. "Some might enjoy what they do, and that's wrong." Elly tugged on his robe until he met her eyes. "But others simply have no choice."

Anders was quiet for a long time. "Well I don't see how that makes things any better. How does one change something like that?"

"I haven't the faintest idea. And before you go making any plans to topple the Chantry, we should probably deal with the darkspawn."

"Oh, alright." Anders shrugged off his pensive mood. "Or we could just enjoy the evening! Open sky, moderate weather, not a templar in sight…" His face fell as he squinted at an approaching figure. "Well, except for that one. Andraste's knicker-weasels!"

The two mages turned to watch the newcomer's approach. "See, even without the customary bucket helmet, you can spot a templar by the way they walk all stiff like that, on account of the giant stick up-"

"I get the picture," Elly cut in. "This is probably a waste of breath, but since you are both Grey Wardens now, maybe you could try to get along?"

"Not likely," Anders scoffed. He looked ready to say more on the subject, but Cullen had reached them.

The former templar's armor was loosened to accommodate bandages. His color was back, but he was breathing hard from walking partway around the keep in the heavy plate.

Elly flung up her arms in exasperation. "Maker's breath, Cullen, you should be resting."

Cullen grunted in disagreement. He had that dour templar expression of his at full strength. "I don't think you two should be left alone to compare notes. An apostate, and a mage who" he took a moment to choose his words, "has done questionable things."

Elly's eyebrows climbed at his word choice. Questionable? He hadn't describe it so mildly before. Questionable was an improvement.

"Drat! You've foiled our evil plan to take over Fereldan!" Before Anders could wax into a villainous monologue, Elly elbowed him in the stomach.

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "You're just increasing your recovery time, straining yourself like this."

"Once you've sent to Amaranthine for some templars to watch over the mages here, I'll be able to rest," Cullen assured her.

"As if one isn't bad enough," Anders grumbled.

"I hardly think we need templars here," Elly objected. "The Grey Wardens supervise themselves."

Cullen sighed. "Sometimes you hardly think things through at all. With a mage in command, you have no superior to supervise you."

Elly flinched, but didn't back down. Somehow he always managed to bring out her temper. "Well I've managed without one so far, haven't I? Do you see me sacrificing livestock and eating small children?"

"Yeah, forget the small children," Anders put in. "Large children have more meat on their bones."

"Alistair was around before," Cullen pointed out, ignoring Anders completely. "He's not a real templar, but he had the training. Now who's to stop you if you lose control?"

"Oghren could. He is a dwarf after all." Elly thought about the rest of the keep's residents. "And I'm sure-"

Cullen brushed that aside. "You couldn't trust that drunk to find his pants, let alone kill an abomination!"

"Oh?" As her anger ramped up, Elly retained just enough control to prevent herself from casting at him. Her mouth took free rein and ran. "Well at least he stuck around!"

Cullen, finger already raised to emphasize his next point, froze at the unexpected change of subject. "What does that have to do with-?" He slowly lowered his finger and cleared his throat awkwardly. "All the new Wardens came to Amaranthine."

"I'm so glad you realize you're a Warden now," Elly bit out. "Perhaps you'd like to start acting like one?"

"As opposed to a templar, you mean?" He looked every inch one right then. "Maybe you've forgotten, but I didn't choose to become a Warden."

"Actually, what I remember is you volunteering on several occasions before that. Besides, who _does_ actually choose to become a Warden?" Before he could reply she quickly amended, "Besides Oghren."

In the following silence, a muffled snickering reminded the mage and templar of their audience. "Don't mind me." Anders didn't even try to hide his amusement. "You two just go ahead. Get it off your chests."

"What is so funny?" Cullen growled.

"Oh nothing, really. It's just I can't see it."

"See what?" Elly asked, struggling to regain her composure.

"You two. I mean, really? What happened? Did you just happen to be arguing while naked and oops?"

Elly covered her face with her hands. Why, she wondered, does everyone who travels with me make a game out of tormenting me? She knew the trick was to not appear bothered by it, but hadn't yet worked out how to control her expression. Her voice came out muffled by her hands. "I think you should drop it."

But Anders wasn't one to stop when he'd just gotten started. "I could see maybe if you were both wearing robes, but he doesn't wear robes, and you wear those pants under yours. Don't know why. It's so free and easy without them, and then you could show a little leg…"

Anders had poked the bear one too many times. At this latest jab, Cullen finally turned towards the human mage. "And why are you looking at her legs, apostate?" His mask had slipped now more than it had during the course of their argument. But he didn't look angry; he just looked deadly.

"Oh, that can't be good." Elly made a grab for Cullen's arm before he could close the gap to Anders. She hung on when he tried to shake her off, tilting her head and mouthing the words 'Shut Up!' at Anders.

Cullen finally stopped and turned his sharp glare on her instead. "Well," Elly began, scrambling for something approaching calm. She shifted her weight away to get just a bit farther from that glare. "I think Anders was just leaving."

The other mage took the hint for once, wisely deciding it was time to continue his walk. The words "bloody templars" still carried back to them once he'd reached a safe range. Elly carefully released Cullen's arm and did her best to look non-threatening.

When the razor sharpness began to fade back to his regular stone façade, Elly slumped in relief. "Cullen, I'm sorry," she whispered, meaning it for more than what had just happened.

His face softened a little. Not enough to give much away, but it felt like a minor triumph all the same. "It's not as though I meant to abandon you after…" He didn't seem able to finish the sentence. "You had plenty of people around to deal with…things."

"I know, and it's not as if I didn't… I mean, I know why you were angry. I shouldn't have said that." Caught somewhere between bitterness and shame, she forged on ahead as if to see how much worse she could make herself feel. "Are you and that Rosie…?"

"Are we what?" Once again completely taken aback by the sudden change in topic, Cullen struggled to keep up. "Rosie? That woman in the infirmary?"

Elly rashly continued down the road to misery. "I'm sure you've noticed her. Wavy golden hair, sky blue eyes, gorgeous, completely smitten with you. And, oh yeah, _human_."

Cullen stumbled on, now on uncertain ground. "She's very kind to all her patients."

"Kind? Dear Maker, she dotes on you!" Elly's fists clenched. She waved them about to emphasize her points. "She gushes about you! She stood there, explaining how you're such a bloody hero, staring at you like she just couldn't get enough!"

"Um." Cullen coughed, at a loss for words. "Well it's not like… I mean, she just…" He trailed off awkwardly and gave her a helpless shrug.

"Not like what?" Her clenched fists had somehow gone from pumping air to striking his breastplate. The result of flesh meeting metal was less than satisfying for the flesh. Worst of all, he simply stood there looking infuriatingly confused.

Unthinking, she tried to stomp on his foot. He was wearing plate boots. The boots came out ahead in the encounter. "Andraste's ass!" she cried, hopping as she tried to clutch at the abused foot.

Cullen couldn't have looked more surprised if she'd turned into a flying pig. Eventually he grabbed a shoulder to steady her. "Er, are you alright?"

"Am I _alright_?" Elly teetered again as she tried to snap her glare from the throbbing foot up to his face. "Did you just ask if I'm-"

"Shh, okay." His hands settled around her shoulders to keep her steady. "Look, it's…" He finally gave up on decorum and distance and pulled her closer, whispering, "It's just you, Elly. Only you."

She abruptly sagged, letting him support some of her weight. She leaned in to let the chill metal of his breastplate cool her flushed face. They stayed like that, at ease, for a moment. Then Elly couldn't resist poking at one more wound. "Cullen?" she asked quietly, too cowardly to study his face. "Have you forgiven me? For the archdemon."

Cullen lightly slipped a gauntleted finger beneath her chin, raising it until their eyes met. "Can you promise me that you'll never do something like that again?"

It was almost a relief when her eyes started to water; it blurred his face so she didn't have to see it when she answered. "No." The words tumbled out against her wishes. "No, you know I can't. We do what we must."

He could've argued that she hadn't done what she _needed_ to but what she _wanted_ to. He could've pressed her on the matter. Instead he gently pulled away and walked back to the keep, leaving her off balance in more than one way.


	5. Dinner Call

**Dinner Call**

The mess hall of Vigil's Keep was full of bustle, chatter and the constant clink and scrape of silverware against plate. Elly shifted unidentifiable objects around on her plate and tried to tune out the racket. "Can you explain again why I have to eat out here?"

Oghren, who for the most part drank his dinner, guzzled down another mug of ale. He'd explained that when liquid missed his mouth it was to help wash out the crumbs in his beard. "Because, when you were in Denerim, you hid in your room all the time, and everyone thought you were some kinda demon, and yer feelings got all hurt."

"My feelings did _not_ get hurt," Elly protested a touch too indignantly. "Besides, scaring people into doing what Alistair and Anora wanted them to do was the whole point of my being there!"

"Sure, maybe for them foreign diplomats. But even the palace staff was afraid of you. And that group of young men started calling you the ice maiden…"

"Only because I froze their nose hairs when they tried to look up my robe!"

Oghren snickered. "And then their parents complained to the Chantry, and Alistair had to convince them that you weren't a maleficar using mind control to rule Fereldan. And then-"

"Okay, I get it, Oghren!" Elly vigorously stabbed an unsuspecting bit of mystery meat with her fork. "Eating with everyone else is supposed to make me seem more normal, fine." She struggled to free her fork from the lump. "Is there also some purpose to this…I'm not sure I'd call it food."

"Sure, it was just like in the army." Oghren poured some more ale down his beard. Some even made it into his mouth. "Gives a sense of whatchercallit – camaraderie - cause everyone is eating the same shit."

"I see," Elly said dubiously. Her fork finally came free. "I think we're going to need to make a trip to Amaranthine tomorrow. And if we just happen to be there for dinnertime, well with the tavern right…" Her brows furrowed at the approach of Rosie, the pretty young nurse she'd met in the infirmary.

The woman greeted her nervously, with a bright smile plastered on her face. Elly wondered if it was painful to keep her face like that. Defying some kind of natural law, the human woman beamed even harder. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Oghren nudged Elly and whispered, "See? You're approachable now!"

Elly couldn't for the life of her remember why she'd wanted to be approachable. "Uh, okay."

Rosie slithered into the seat across from them and proceeded to shuffle some kind of leafy green thing around her plate. When she'd apparently gotten it into the right position, she turned her attention to Elly. "When you came to the infirmary, I didn't know that you and Cullen were old acquaintances from the Tower of Magi."

Oghren sputtered at the word 'acquaintances,' raining a spray of ale and food crumbs to the table.

Rosie delicately pulled her plate closer to her own side of the table. "So I was wondering if you knew whether Cullen, you know, has other interests?" She waved her hand meaningfully.

Elly just wasn't sure what that meaning was. "Interests besides finding abominations to kill?"

"I mean _different_ interests," Rosie persisted.

"Um," Elly said. "He does threaten mages a lot, but I wouldn't really call that a hobby."

Rosie laughed like this was a great joke, and reached across to pat Elly's hand. "I mean…" her voice dropped conspiratorially, "does he like men?"

Elly had used the excuse of grabbing for her water glass to avoid Rosie's patronizing hand pat. When Rosie finally spoke plainly, the elven mage choked worse than Oghren had earlier, though minus the pieces of food. The dwarf slapped the table in amusement while she gasped for air.

Rosie's lips twisted sympathetically. "Went down the wrong tube, huh? You might want to consider taking smaller sips. My little brother used to guzzle his water. I thought he'd drown himself before he learned a little patience."

"What," Elly finally managed to get out when the woman paused for breath, "are you talking about?"

She feared the nurse was about to launch into her little brother's life story, but instead the woman lowered her head in false modesty. "Well, I just wondered if that's the way things were. Usually when I find a man interesting, he, well, returns that interest. If you know what I mean?"

Elly's mouth dropped open. Had the woman just winked at her? "I don't… I don't even know what to say right now."

"That one's easy Commander," Oghren cut in, gesturing with a full mug he'd gotten somewhere. "Just tell the lady that the last time you were in his pants, he was into girls. You never know when they'll change on you, but the last time you checked…"

Elly's fingers clenched spastically around her fork. She didn't blush. She'd gone right past embarrassed and out the other side. It felt like everyone in the whole room must be staring, but she didn't dare to look. She watched Rosie's lips press together in distaste before the nurse smoothed them out into another brilliant smile. Elly's only consolation was that it looked a little strained.

Rosie cleared her throat. "Oh. So you and Cullen… You…" She shook her head.

Oghren thumped his mug on the table. "Eh, forget about that crazy templar, Tulip. I'm all the man you need. Come on over and get yourself a taste of ol' Oghren." The dwarf belched and his head drifted down to the table.

The human woman wrinkled her nose at the dwarf, but it was only a moment's distraction. "So, I guess Cullen likes…elves?"

Elly's fingers began to drum rapidly on the table. Rosie's vegetables started to ice over. The nurse pushed her plated away nervously. Elly slapped the table, and the contents of Rosie's plate shattered like glass.

Rosie shrieked and jumped to her feet. "She's attacking me!" she cried, scrambling away from the table. "Help! That mage is trying to kill me!" The wails continued as the woman ran from the mess hall and down the corridor.

Elly let her head bang into the tabletop. She closed her eyes and covered her ears. "I am _never_ listening to Oghren again."


	6. Doors and Windows

**Doors and Windows**

Being a bird was a freeing sensation. Not that the form was an impressive one. Borrowing a creature's form required an extensive study of it. The only bird Elly had been able to examine so thoroughly was a little caged songbird in Denerim. She was sure Morrigan would have found that amusing.

Elly actually missed the dark-haired witch. Sure, Morrigan could be scathing when opinions clashed, but she never made a game out of embarrassing Elly like the others did. The two women had shared a thirst for esoteric knowledge and a certain social awkwardness. It was Morrigan who had taught her that when bad things happen - as they inevitably do - you can not only survive but come out all the stronger for them.

Elly searched for the right current of air to take her back towards the open window of her bedroom. Even if she hadn't been starting to tire, it was long past time to deal with the situation she'd been avoiding. Ungainly from lack of practice, she made a wobbly landing on the back of an austere wooden chair.

Before she could glide down to the floor – a much safer place to shift – she felt a sharp wrenching pain and coldness. She landed painfully across the chair in her natural form and tumbled to the ground with it.

Elly groaned and rubbed at a banged up elbow. After a moment spent accustoming herself to arms and legs, she twisted to face the intruders. It was Doyle - the templar recently sent over from Amaranthine - and Cullen. "You couldn't have waited one _minute_ while I did that myself?" she growled. She remembered where legs went again, and levered herself up.

"And give you time to flee?" Doyle snapped at her, drawing his sword. He looked angry, but not a fiery, hot kind of anger. It was the cold, deadly anger templars pulled off so well. The kind that said: I take no personal joy in this, but I must rid the world of your evil. Cullen also looked grim, but he was standing back away from his fellow templar as if embarrassed by the man's overreaction.

"This is my room," Elly pointed out. "I was out there, and I just came back. Into here…" This argument seemed to have no effect on Doyle. "Fine," she sighed. "At least let me get dressed, for Andraste's sake."

Doyle seemed to be weighing the danger of allowing her that much freedom. "Very well, mage, but if you make one false move, I'll-"

Cullen cut him off insistently. "By the Maker, get dressed!" He'd politely turned his body away, but his head hadn't followed suit. He was staring.

Elly dove into her robe, mistreating bruising skin in the interest of getting covered up as fast as possible. She turned back to the templars. Cullen was shifting uncomfortably in his heavy armor. Doyle's sword hadn't wavered. "I thought I might hear from you about the vegetables. Breaking into my room, however…"

Cullen's brow furrowed. "Vegetables? Do you think this is some sort of joke? You've been accused of attacking a resident of the keep with magic." He hesitated, then plowed ahead at a nod from Doyle. "A resident you spoke of in anger before the incident."

Elly's mouth worked soundlessly. He couldn't possibly think she'd attack that woman out of jealousy, could he? She forced herself to brush such thoughts aside. It was easier to address the man with the sword. "I did no such thing. I froze her vegetables."

"She claims you cast a spell at her," Doyle informed her.

"You can hardly count her dinner as her person!" Elly protested. Though she wasn't surprised to find the newly arrived templar predisposed to take the word of a lovely, perhaps too friendly, young, human woman over that of a mage who also happened to be an elf.

"And you caused her to lose consciousness," Doyle went on.

The mage paused. "Are you saying she fainted?"

"We all know mages can cause an artificial sleep. Apparently when the woman tried to flee, calling for help, you disabled her so she could not tell people what you'd done to her."

"So she ran down the hallway and fainted." Elly struggled not to smirk at the image. It surely wouldn't help her case, but it did lift her spirits a very little bit. She straightened up and made sure she had Doyle's attention. "Let me tell you something, Ser Templar. If I had cast a spell at her, she would be missing pieces. Now, believe it or not, I am commander of this keep. You're here because I allowed you to come here. If you ever break into my room again without hard proof that I've become an abomination, you will be escorted back to Amaranthine." She took a deep breath as she reached the end of this speech. Her voice had only wavered a couple times throughout.

Cullen stepped up alongside Doyle, carefully pushing the other man's sword towards the ground. "I believe her." He wouldn't look at either of their faces.

"What, just like that?" Doyle asked him, shocked.

"Well she doesn't look like an abomination and I don't think she'd lie about casting a spell on someone." Cullen shrugged awkwardly.

Doyle looked Cullen over as if checking for a recent head wound. "What in Andraste's name makes you think a mage wouldn't lie to a templar?"

"Because she's owned up to worse," Cullen explained. Before the other man could question what, he added, "Grey Warden business."

Doyle sputtered. "Even this 'business' you speak of aside, are you forgetting she was a bird a few minutes ago?"

Getting impatient at the two of them discussing her like she wasn't present, Elly broke in. "That's not forbidden. It's simply discouraged in the Tower. Now, I'd like you two to leave my room."

Doyle seemed to be struggling to come up with another objection. Finally, face flustered, he gave her a dire glower and strode out. Cullen cleared his throat. "I'm sorry he went at you like that. We were supposed to be coming to get your side of the story, but the door was locked and it seemed suspicious." He went on, as if explaining this would make it perfectly reasonable and thus alright. "So he broke the door down, and of course there was nobody there. So we waited and you came in flaunting that apostate magic…"

He actually looked like he expected her to understand. "Cullen," Elly snapped out, "just go." She'd been angry and lost her temper with him before, but this was strikingly different. She sounded weary, disappointed and incredibly distant. Cullen hesitated. Elly shuffled sideways to her nightstand. "If you don't leave right now, I will throw this pitcher at you."

She looked like she meant it. Cullen left.

Elly sank to the bed, rubbing her elbow with a grimace. She couldn't help but think how much she _would_ like to flee. If only there wasn't so much to do. And she'd always done as she was told.


	7. Two Choices

**Two Choices**

The day was bright and sunny as four Grey Wardens tromped into the city of Amaranthine. But Elly found she couldn't enjoy it - not after passing by the dejected looking refugees still crowding around the gate. Elly watched without much interest as Sigrun excitedly eyed a merchant's wares and Oghren searched for an apothecary. Then Anders ran into an old acquaintance.

She was a tough looking elf who'd definitely seen a scrap or ten. Anders spoke to her with urgency and a hint of excitement. Elly's ears pricked at the words 'mages' and 'cache' and she started to pay attention.

The other elf, Namaya he'd called her, suddenly turned towards Elly. "Word of advice – don't let him sweet-talk you. He's very good at that."

Elly frowned in confusion as Anders stumbled over a thank you to the woman. She seemed less than impressed, and soon she'd disappeared around a corner.

Anders gave Elly an awkward half-smile. "I… suppose that requires some explanation."

"What was she talking about? Something about a cache?"

Anders put off getting to the point. "Namaya is… a friend. Last time I escaped from the tower, I asked her to look into some things. That's why I was in Amaranthine. The templars thought I'd come to take a ship, but it was to meet her."

Elly absently fussed with her robe, waiting for him to get around to actually answering the question. He eventually did. "During the Blight," Anders explained, "the templars moved their store of phylacteries to Amaranthine for safety. My phylactery is among them, Namaya learned. So long as the templars have that sample of my blood, they can find me. I need to destroy it."

Elly hadn't expected it to be a cache of cookies…but destroying phylacteries? Not again. The events following her Harrowing sprang to mind unbidden. She saw Jowan, pleading with her. Irving, already knowing and plotting something more. Ordering her to 'do her duty' and go along with it. Lily, and the look on her face when Jowan sliced open his own hand.

Elly shuddered. Anders looked puzzled and a touch concerned. Elly searched for an objection. Please don't ask me to do this again. "But you're a Grey Warden now."

Anders laughed without humor. "What's to stop the Chantry from deciding mages in the Grey Wardens are apostates, too? I want to be sure they can't ever find me again. Ever." He eyed her intently. "Surely after the way that templar broke down your door and attacked you, you feel the same way?"

He had a point there. Elly still had the bruises from her fall to remind her. "You're right. They shouldn't be allowed to continue like this. They're around in case we turn into abominations, not to watch and judge our every move." She took a deep breath and dived in. "Let's go make a point."

The plan was to enter the building and demand the guards release the phylactery of a mage no longer under their authority. If they refused, Sigrun was to sneak by while the mages loudly and actively argued their point. That the building would be unguarded hadn't even been considered.

Anders piped up as they all studied the deserted room uncertainly. "Maybe they don't want to draw attention to the cache? Could we be that lucky?"

"Lucky is something that happens to other people," Elly mumbled as they approached the entrance to the next room.

Sure enough, just past the portal waited a group of templars. Rylock, the templar who'd pursued Anders to Vigil's Keep, flashed a triumphant grin. "And here I almost believed the infamous Anders wouldn't take the bait," she gloated, like some villain in a story book. Her face looked flushed, feverish. She grasped her sword hilt, driven on by some obviously unhealthy obsession.

Panic began to trickle in as Elly watched Anders step up to say his line, like a part of some appalling play. "Ah. Yes, I suppose I should have known it would be you."

Rylock waxed on. "You made a poor choice with this one, Commander. Anders will never submit, not to us and not to you."

"I… You…" The elven mage felt like she'd forgotten to learn her lines. "Just hold on. I think you're overreacting here. Besides, Anders has made a fine Grey Warden so far."

"'So far,' yes." Rylock cut in before Elly could make further clumsy attempts to defuse the situation. The templar pulled her sword free. "I'll make sure this murderer is never a bother to anyone again."

"What?" Anders protested nervously, suddenly realizing the game was over. "No, you can't arrest me! King Alistair allowed my conscription!"

"The Chantry's authority supersedes the Crown in this matter. You cannot hide within the Grey Wardens' ranks." The other templars drew their swords.

This declaration hit Elly's sore spot dead on. She lost her temper. "Of course the Chantry would say that! It doesn't matter if you think you can overrule Alistair. You do _not_ have authority over the Grey Wardens! You are _not_ our supervisors. You…" She remembered the danger of the situation and closed her mouth, too late.

Rylock didn't look upset. She was at a calm in the center of her own madness. "Hardly surprising, from yet another mage. But it matters not. Now you come with us." She sprang forward, the other templars a step behind.

Elly flung herself behind Oghren. Unhinged or not, templars were a real threat. Anders had reflexively tried to conjure up some sort of shield, only to have it instantly dispelled. He wasn't skewered only because Sigrun found a convenient joint in the templar's armor to insert her dagger. "Get back, Anders!" Elly hissed.

The fight was a messy one, with Elly and Anders unable to offer assistance. Oghren roared like a bronco, trying to pull their attackers' attention away. But the templars knew where the worst danger lay and struggled to get at the mages.

Sigrun took advantage of their preoccupation and circled behind them. One of her daggers found the flexible material at the knee joint of one templar, while her foot kicked out to trip another. Before the second man could struggle up against the weight of his armor, she'd reached around, pulled off his helmet and slit his throat.

Oghren was left to face Rylock's vicious onslaught. The templar pushed and sidestepped, trying to get around him to the mages. When she finally saw her opening, she leapt at it, her shield flung out to foul Oghren's axe swing. Elly had dropped her staff and was frantically rummaging through her belt pouch. As Rylock barreled towards her, the elven mage flung an open lyrium potion in her face.

The templar staggered and involuntarily licked her lips even as she struggled to wipe the substance from her eyes with her shield arm. The heavy gauntlet she wore made the task impossible. Elly dodged aside and Oghren slammed the human woman into the wall hard enough to stun her. A heavy axe blow later the fight was over.

Elly checked her companions for damage, finishing with a shaken Anders. He nodded to indicate he was unharmed. "I wonder if Namaya knew about this?" Uncertain if he was asking them or himself, Elly didn't answer. He continued, "I guess it doesn't really matter. Thank you. You stood by me, and I appreciate that."

"Well, of course." Elly was surprised he thought it worth mentioning. "You sure you didn't get hit on the head?"

"No more than usual," Anders assured her. "Now let's go before someone else rushes in to waggle a finger at us."

People stared and gave them a wide berth as they headed - covered with blood - out into the market.

* * *

News traveled to the keep faster than she'd expected. Elly asked Sigrun to hang around covertly and retreated to her office. After what had happened in her room, she didn't bother to lock the door.

She'd expected both of them to barge in with swords drawn, so it was a surprise when Cullen entered her office alone. He didn't waste time, but marched right up to her desk and banged a gauntleted fist on it. "Are you completely out of your mind?"

Elly absently straightened a pile of papers he'd scattered so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Your templar friend isn't with you."

"I think you're lucky I got here first."

Elly wasn't sure about that. Facing down Cullen was much harder than facing a templar she barely knew. "I don't think I've ever been lucky in my life. Unless you count how we managed to stop the Blight, but that was more along the lines of a miracle."

Cullen's fist slammed into the desk again, forcefully bringing her back on topic. "I can't believe you slaughtered those templars!"

"They attacked us. We defended ourselves," she explained quietly. At the time she'd been angry. Now she just regretted the way it had played out.

Bang! went his fist into the desk again. "_You_ are the one who chose to enter that building. You broke in to destroy phylacteries. Again!" Bang.

"You know that Irving-"

"And even then," Cullen continued, refusing to be sidetracked by past events. "Even then you still had a chance to resolve things peacefully. And you refused!" Bang.

Elly shook her head sadly. She wasn't sure what kind of report the Chantry had sent, but they couldn't know what had actually happened inside that building. "What choice did I have?"

"You could have given her the apostate!" Bang. "She was only there for the apostate, and if she attacked you, _you_ must have tried to stop her."

Elly could hardly believe her ears. "That's enough!" She sprang to her feet, not that it alleviated the height difference. She still only came up to his shoulder, and instead of craning her neck she chose to shout at his chest. The breastplate couldn't glare back. "I don't care what you think of Anders. He's a Grey Warden. We stick together, and we support each other, because nobody else is going to. We don't hand one of our own over to be murdered by some obsessed fanatic!"

Cullen loomed over the desk threateningly. "You can't possibly expect us to let this go!"

"Us?" Elly shrieked. "What 'us' are you speaking of? The templars? You're supposed to be a Grey Warden." Elly finally looked up and met his eyes. "And it's _long_ past time you made a decision. Are you a templar or a warden? If you can't work with the rest of us - as a _warden_ - then go back to the Chantry." She steeled herself to force from her lips the command that might send him away. "Choose."

Cullen's mouth pressed into a hard line. "I am a templar." His face betrayed some kind of internal struggle. Finally he spat the words out like they were distasteful. "But I need the Wardens. To go out on patrol and kill darkspawn, to have something to fight, I need it." It sounded like an admission of defeat.

Elly faltered. She felt like she'd just kicked at a wounded wolf and it had - instead of snapping back at her - given up and laid its head on its paws. "Still, Cullen?" she whispered. But she forced herself back on track, aiming for and falling short of a businesslike tone. "How is your shoulder?"

Cullen's stony mask snapped back into place. "Well enough to hold a shield."

"Then go," Elly said, because she couldn't bear to continue the discussion, and sending him out on patrol was the closest thing to making the problem go away. "Leave with Taren's group in the morning."

"There's still the matter of-"

The mage stared hard at her desk. "You're dismissed, Warden."

Cullen's fists clenched. Then years of rigid training kicked in and he pulled himself to attention. "Commander." He marched from the room without a backward glance.

Elly dropped into her chair like a puppet with its strings cut. She crossed her arms and huddled in on herself, staring at the neat pile of papers without seeing them. Minutes or hours passed before there was a gentle touch on her elbow. "Is everything alright, Commander?"

Elly hadn't even noticed the dwarven rogue come in. "Yes," she lied. "Thank you, Sigrun."


	8. Thanks, But No Thanks

**Thanks, But No Thanks**

The silence of night had broken, and the Vigil was preparing for a new day. Elly picked her way past residents trickling out of the living quarters. If she could get to the kitchens before they started to serve the morning meal, she'd be able to grab breakfast and make it back to her office before the corridors became too crowded.

"There you are Commander!" Elly groaned. Anders was beckoning her across the hallway. She thought he looked far too chipper considering the early hour. "Over here, Commander!"

Elly sighed and shuffled over. "I was on my way to get some breakfast, if this can wait…"

The human mage definitely had a mischievous air. "Oh, this is much better than breakfast, I assure you. Just wait right here and face…" Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pointed her at a door a few paces away. "That way."

"Anders…" Elly tried to scoot sideways as the traffic flow in the hallway increased but her fellow mage herded her back into place.

"Just wait. It'll be good, I promise." Anders gleefully rubbed his hands together. He grinned when Elly threw up her hands in resignation. "So I've been wanting to thank you for helping me try to destroy my phylactery. I know there was some fallout for it. But!" He held up a finger. "I think I've found a way to thank you and cheer you up, at the same time!" A bounce of excitement brought forth a protesting meow from somewhere inside his robe. "Oh, and Ser Pounce-a-lot helped too, of course."

Elly was getting a bad feeling about this. "This is starting to sound…" As she searched for the right word a loud belch came from the room in front of her. A high-pitched shriek followed.

The door to the room had been left open a crack. A bellowing voice reached the hallway clearly. "By the tits of my ancestors, woman! Are you a bleeding tea kettle?"

"That's Oghren…" Elly pointed out needlessly. Anders was snickering. Several people in the hallway had stopped to listen.

A shrill female voice followed. "What are you doing in my room? Get out of here!" There was a crash and a thud. "Get out, you hairy beast!"

"You don't have to flatter me, lady. Oghren is always ready for more. Just let me find my special brew!"

"Well if you won't leave, I will!" The door jerked open and Rosie stepped into the hallway, looking disgusted and nauseated. She blanched at the crowd in the hallway.

A moment later Oghren followed her through the door. "I found it!" he announced smugly, holding up a flask. "You sure you don't want to go for some more?" He winked at her.

Rosie jumped back from him like he was on fire. "I didn't! I would never… Not with _you_!"

"Oh, aye, that's what they all say, but when you get a few drinks in 'em..." Oghren leered.

A strangled noise of rage and humiliation emerged from deep in the nurse's throat. She pushed the nearest spectator out of the way and fled down the hallway. Oghren shrugged, took a swig and sauntered off in the other direction, winking at those who had stopped to watch.

Anders was chortling behind his hand. Elly grabbed his robe and pulled him out of earshot of the others. "Explain," she hissed.

"Oh come on, it's funny!" It took him awhile to contain his laughter, but eventually Elly's glare sobered him a little. "Oh, don't worry, they didn't actually…heh. I just gave her a potion to make her sleepy and her memory a little fuzzy. Found the recipe in a book back at the tower; it was quite useful for escaping. The templars wouldn't remember afterwards who might have spiked their drinks." He grinned.

"And Oghren?" Elly pressed. "He sure seems to think…"

"Oh, well I didn't need to drug him, did I? I just waited for him to drink himself into unconsciousness as usual. Then I helped him to bed." Anders snickered. "Course it wasn't _his_ bed. But he was in no state to actually…" He waved his hand and burst into another round of laughter.

Elly waited until he'd wound down. She crossed her arms. "If I'd realized you were ten years old, I wouldn't have left you unsupervised," she snapped.

Anders might have looked hurt if he wasn't still so amused with himself. "What?" he complained. "Come on, that woman deserved it! She set the templars on you for freezing her vegetables. The ninny fainted and claimed you knocked her out. If anyone deserves a little prank, it's her!"

"Anders, you're an idiot." Elly strode away, leaving him gaping. She certainly had no love for Rosie – she'd wanted to set the woman's hair on fire on several occasions - but she hadn't wanted to see her humiliated either. She continued walking towards nowhere in particular as she considered the situation, then cursed Anders and veered off to the infirmary.

Elly found no sign of Rosie in the infirmary. She headed over to the locked supply room and knocked on the door. She was rewarded with a shaky call of "just a moment," and the sound of the door unlocking.

Rosie opened the door and took in the sight of Elly with a frown. "Oh, it's you." She turned her back on the mage and walked to the corner, lowering herself onto a crate of bandages. "Odd time for an inspection, Commander," she said accusingly.

"I…no…" Elly glanced around the supply room. She'd never been any good at saying the right thing at the right time. Sometimes she'd think up something clever to say…hours after the conversation had taken place. "I came to speak to you," she began awkwardly.

"Oh really?" Rosie huffed. "You didn't come to magic away my clothes in front of the entire keep or something?"

"The rest of the keep isn't here," Elly pointed out. By Rosie's expression, that hadn't been the right thing to say. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened. But it was just a prank, you don't have to worry that anything actually happened between you and Oghren. He said that Oghren was long past being able to do anything when he-"

"He who?" Rosie's voice rose to a pitch that made Elly wince. "Who is responsible for this 'prank'?" She made quotations in the air to be clear it wasn't the word she would have chosen.

Elly mentally slapped herself. If only she could have several minutes of planning prior to any occasion she opened her mouth. "You needn't to worry about it, he'll be reprimanded." Though Elly hadn't the faintest idea how she was going to do that. Take his kitten away for a week?

"Tell me his name!"

Elly's hands scrambled to protect her long, pointed ears. She might be willing to antagonize the Chantry for Anders, but she wasn't going to endure auditory torture because of some stupid prank he'd pulled. "Maker, stop shrieking! It was Anders."

Rosie's eyes widened and she sprang to her feet. "The other mage? He cast a spell on me!" The woman suddenly looked on the verge of hysterics. "Why are you mages out to get me?"

Elly bit back the urge to ask the human if she was joking. Rosie truly looked scared. "No magic. It was a potion. A completely non-magical potion. Anyone could have made it."

"Of course you'd say that!" Rosie looked around the room as if searching for an exit that wasn't blocked by Elly. "Just like you claimed I fainted when you cast that spell at me! I'm a nurse! I'd know if I had fainted!"

Elly frowned. She was no expert, but Rosie didn't sound like she was lying. On the other hand, Elly knew she hadn't cast a spell.

The nurse's wildly searching eyes caught hold of something in the doorway. "Oh, Ser Timothy! Thank the Maker you're here!" Rosie nervously skirted the mage to reach the side of a man Elly thought she recognized. He'd been at the ceremony where the nobles had sworn their oaths.

The knight put an arm around her protectively. "Is everything alright Rosie?" He took in the room and the mage with a scowl. "The Commander hasn't attacked you with magic again, has she?" The man's voice was full of concern, but even someone as poor at reading people as Elly could see that none of it touched his eyes. Surely Rosie wasn't fooled?

"Not her, another one!" Rosie cried. The man stroked her hair and she simpered. "I'm so relieved you're here."

Elly watched in amazement as the man herded her away, whispering reassurances. "What just happened?" she asked empty room, but of course it had no more answer than she did.


	9. The Plot Thickens

**The Plot Thickens**

The Grey Wardens had taken over a corner of Vigil's throne room and were using it to sort out their traveling gear. They divided their well-used equipment into four piles, then began to shove it into their packs, leaving dust and flakes of dried mud in their wake. Seneschal Varel looked on with dismay and wrung his hands. "Uh, Commander? Perhaps you could do that out in the courtyard?"

Elly hoisted her pack to make sure it wasn't too heavy. She toed the dirty floor and looked at Varel sheepishly. "Uh, right." She patted her pack absently, sending more dust into the air. "I meant to have this stuff cleaned, but with so much happening, I forgot. I'll have to make sure it gets looked at after the Wending Woods…"

"If you could just- Oh, never mind." Varel sighed and went off to find a maid. Elly tied her pack closed and set it down next to the other three. Oghren's pack bulged with the majority of their equipment, though Sigrun's wasn't too far behind. Despite their short stature, each dwarf seemed able to carry as much as Elly and Anders combined. And unlike Anders, they didn't complain about carrying it. The human mage was already in the process of trying to transfer a cooking pot from his pack to Sigrun's.

Before Elly could tell him to knock it off, a figure in heavy Grey Warden armor stomped straight in from the courtyard. It was a good thing Varel had already gone to get the maid, because he didn't stop to wipe his feet. He left behind a trail of fresh mud as he hastened to the commander's side and grabbed her arm. "Elly, I need to talk to you."

He didn't take off his helmet, but she recognized the voice. "Cullen? What are you doing here? You're not due back for another week…"

"Shh." He pulled her towards the main body of the keep. "Not here," he mumbled. "In your office."

Elly allowed herself to be pulled along but she didn't heed his request for silence. "We're supposed to be leaving to investigate the Pilgrim's Path. I don't want to be the one to face Mistress Woolsey if there's another delay!" She shuddered.

Cullen ignored her complaints and steered her through the hallway. He ushered her into the office and closed the door behind them. "Right." He barreled right into the matter at hand. "Do you know of any nobles who want you removed from power here?"

"Um." Elly was taken aback. She wanted to ask him a dozen questions, starting with what was he doing here, but she checked herself for the moment. "Well, sort of, yes. Anders heard something at the ceremony. It seemed to point to some kind of conspiracy."

"What? You know?" Cullen exclaimed. "And you haven't done anything about it?"

Elly waved her hands vaguely. "Not exactly nothing. I went to Amaranthine to find this Dark Wolf fellow. He's sort of…" She frowned at him. "I feel ridiculous speaking to your helmet, can't you take it off?"

"It's fine on my head. It's more important that you concentrate on these nobles. "

"No it's not. It's impossible to have a conversation with you like this!" Elly came closer, studying him. "Why don't you want to take it off?"

"Fine! If it'll get us back on topic…." Cullen pulled off his helmet gingerly. His face was mottled with day old bruises. Dried blood trailed to a half-swollen shut eye from a shallow cut on his temple that wasn't clotting.

"Oh, Cullen! What happened?" Elly winced in sympathy. "That looks painful."

"It looks worse than it is," he grumbled, setting his helmet down on the desk.

"Sit down, I'll heal you." Elly pulled out a chair for him.

"That's not why I'm here. You need to hear the rest of this."

Elly put her hands on her hips. "You can tell me while I heal you. And it won't take long."

"Sweet Andraste! You don't pay attention to anything else when you're healing." He held up a hand to forestall her. "No, this isn't the time for one of our arguments." He gave up and sat in the chair.

Elly bit her lip. They didn't argue that much, did they? Well, perhaps they did. But only because he was the only one capable of infuriating her so.

Shaking her head to clear it, she gently ran her hands over his face. He was right, she did have to concentrate to the exclusion of all else. The swelling in his face eased, and his nose recovered its proper shape. Some bruising remained, but it would fade in a couple days. She eased a few copper curls aside to study the cut just past his hairline. It was sealing now. The mage found herself lingering a little longer than necessary. She loved running her fingers through his hair.

Cullen coughed and shifted in his chair. "Elly." He didn't sound angry, just impatient.

Called to task, Elly stepped away. She dragged another chair over and settled in it, facing him. "I'm sorry." Awkward. "So, uh, what happened to you?"

"You already know I was on patrol with Captain Taren's group. Yesterday morning I was out scouting, to see if I could sense any darkspawn in the area. Instead I ran into a group of well-equipped men." He frowned at the memory. "They all wore full helms, and their armor was scuffed to remove any identification. But their gear was in too good a condition for bandits."

"And they attacked you?" Elly burst out.

"No." Cullen sounded annoyed at the interruption. "They had an offer for me." He sounded even more annoyed at _that_.

"I don't understand."

"They said that I could either give testimony to help prove you unfit for command, or they'd make sure a certain rumor reached the Chantry."

She was almost afraid to ask. "What rumor?"

"That you'd used blood magic to seduce and corrupt one of their templars, then forced the man to become a Grey Warden to cover it up."

Elly's mouth formed the word "oh" but no sound actually came out. After a moment she said, "That isn't going to help things around here."

"At the very least, you will have a group of templars watching your every move, waiting for some sign of blood magic. And there will be an investigation. That's at the _least_. Considering what you did going after that idiot's phylactery…"

"An investigation into…" Elly was too embarrassed to say it. "Redcliffe?" she finished lamely.

"That drunk of a dwarf has been going around telling people," Cullen growled. "I don't know what you were thinking, letting him take the Joining!"

"I thought we weren't going to fight right now," Elly said plaintively. At the moment she was too shocked to react with anger. There were too many strange things happening of late, and it worried her.

Cullen bowed his head to concede the point. She could see he was still irritated; his face was probably still too sore to revert to his usual mask. "Fine, back to those men," he said grudgingly. "They said I'd have two weeks to do it. I didn't recognize any of their voices. But by their gear I think it's safe to assume they have backing from the nobility."

Elly frowned. "And they beat you for refusing their offer?"

"Well, not exactly." Cullen shifted in embarrassment. "I may have…attacked them."

"Cullen!"

"I _know_!" It wasn't clear whether he was angry at her - for chiding him - or at himself, for doing it. "It wasn't the best move."

Elly boggled at his understatement. "You're lucky they didn't kill you!"

"Oh, but they wouldn't have." He laughed without humor. "Because, they expect me to do it."

"Oh." Elly sat back in her chair. "But, you're not, right?" He looked at her like she'd gone mad. Stupidly, she continued, "I mean, I figure you're probably mad at me after what I did in Amaranthine, and what happened after…" Not to mention all the stuff before that.

Cullen exploded to his feet. "Damn it, Elly! You forced me to choose, and I did! Do Not Prod Me."

For once Elly didn't shout back at him. She wilted a little in her chair. "You're right." On those rare occasions when something seemed like it might - just possibly might - be alright, she poked at it. Like picking at a scab, she poked at it until she found where it might fall apart on her. And then, of course, it usually did. But when the world has kicked you in the teeth enough times, you start watching for incoming shoes.

Elly shied away from Cullen's gaze. She clambered to her feet without looking at him. "I'd better go see if this Dark Wolf has found anything." Stiffly, she headed for the door.

"I'm going too," Cullen grumbled, leaving no room for argument.


	10. No, I'm the Dark Wolf

**No, **_**I'm**_** the Dark Wolf**

The trip to Amaranthine had been an awkward one. In an effort to not harass Cullen about meaningful things, Elly had harassed him about inconsequential ones instead. She'd wisely fallen silent when he'd shouted: "I can't believe that idiot apostate complained you were too _quiet_ on the road!" In the ensuing silence Cullen had started humming some kind of marching tune. It wasn't long before it began to grate on Elly's nerves. Both were relieved when the city finally came into view.

They'd just passed the main gates when a nervous looking guard thrust a letter into Elly's hands. "My pardon, ser. I was paid a whole sovereign to give this letter to you." The guard waited to make sure Elly was going to read it. "I told him, I did, there are easier ways of getting a message to the Commander of the Grey."

"Thank you for the message," Elly told her. "Good day." She waited until the guard had walked off before opening the letter. Cullen leaned over her shoulder. "I think this is from the Dark Wolf," Elly whispered. "I hope it means he's found something.

Cullen nodded, and the two of them set off through the city. Elly's stomach rumbled as they passed the Crown and Lion. "Oh, I hope we have time to stop for a meal. The food they've been serving at the keep…"

"Makes rations look appealing," Cullen finished for her.

"That's not a bad idea actually. Eating rations instead."

They stopped when a suspicious looking guard nodded at them. His helmet wasn't standard issue; it covered his entire face, leaving only a slit to see out of. He waited until the pair of them drew close. "I see you got my letter, Commander. It's an honor to meet you."

Elly frowned. "An honor to meet me? Who was it I met before? Your partner?"

"I have no partner," the man told her, his voice echoing oddly behind the helmet.

"But I paid the Dark Wolf thirty sovereigns a few weeks ago! To find out which nobles wanted me dead."

"Please lower your voice, Commander. I'm afraid you are mistaken. I am the Dark Wolf, and we've never met before today."

"Well, if you're the Dark Wolf, who was the other one?"

"I could find that out for you," he said, "but I'd much rather pursue certain confederates of the late Arl Rendon Howe." Elly couldn't disagree with that. "To unearth their identities, I'll need resources. Fifty sovereigns."

"What?" Elly exploded. Both men motioned for her to lower her voice. "Are you kidding? How do I even know you're the real Dark Wolf this time?" The man shrugged. "Ugh, blighted helmets! I _hate_ talking to helmets!"

Cullen shrugged at the stranger as if to say 'What can you do?' To Elly, he said, "If you can think of something else…"

"No," Elly groused. She glared as she handed over the coins. "You'd better be worth it. You'd better be fast."

"The fastest," he assured her. "Just give me two days." And then he was gone, weaving extremely quickly through the streets, considering the armor.

Cullen glanced at the city around them uncertainly. "Two days… I guess we wait?"

"I'm going to find that other Dark Wolf and get my money back," Elly declared, stomping back in the direction they'd come from. "After a real meal."

* * *

After enjoying a dinner she could actually identify for once, Elly sat back and traced the carvings left in their table by former customers. "If only Sigrun was here. She'd know just where to look."

Cullen frowned. He hadn't seen much of the female dwarf around the keep. And Sigrun was good at not being seen when she didn't want to be. "I thought she's part of that Legion of the Dead, goes around killing darkspawn? Sort of like the Grey Wardens, but below ground?"

"I guess it is. If you mean the part where many wardens are conscripted convicts, murderers, thieves…"

Cullen choked. "Nobody got around to telling me _that_ part."

"The Orlesian Wardens probably didn't get the chance. Did you at least get to hear about the griffons?" Elly pointed at the heraldry on his breastplate. "That's my favorite part."

Cullen sighed. "Sigrun," he reminded her.

"Oh. Well, she's from Dust Town. It's kind of like the alienage, only even worse. You have to steal, cheat and kill just to survive. All because you were born casteless. Orzammar is... not a nice place." She noticed Cullen was silently staring at her. "What's the matter? Am I talking too much again?"

"This is fine. A lecture on eight herbs for better digestive health and how to find them is not…"

"Right, sorry about that." She paused. "Why are you still looking at me funny?"

"I'm just wondering how you accomplish anything at all with a drunkard, a burgling noble, a cut-throat thief, and a dangerous apostate…"

"Well, we do," Elly said, a little defensively. "And they're loyal friends."

"So far… But if I were you, I wouldn't turn my back."

Elly rapped the table in annoyance. She'd enjoyed the meal but now it seemed to be curdling in her stomach. "If your goal is to antagonize me, you succeeded. Pleasant evening over. Back to work now."

Cullen stiffened. "No."

Elly waited for the rest. There wasn't any more. She let out a breath loudly. "No? Just 'no,' that's it?"

"No, my goal is not to antagonize you," he said steadily.

Elly rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "And now he channels his inner qunari. I'm going to ask Constable Aidan if he has any leads."

She heard his chair scraping back before she'd gotten halfway to the door. "You can't go by yourself; people are trying to kill you!"

"When aren't they?" she grumbled as she grabbed the handle.

* * *

The only useful tidbit she'd gotten from the constable was that the smuggler's cave hadn't been sealed yet. Refugees had been using it as a place to sleep, sometimes sneaking through into the city if the guards weren't careful. It wasn't much, but it was something. And she _really_ needed something to do. Elly hurried towards the dilapidated building she knew housed the trap door. She wanted to search the area before it grew dark and the refugees taking shelter there retired for the night.

If the place was being used by shady characters again, they probably hid there during the day and came out after dark. Or so she hoped. She wanted to catch them before they snuck out for the night.

Elly picked up the skirts of her robe and ran. Cullen - weighed down by his heavy armor - was about a block behind and yelling for her to slow down. She almost kept going, but thought better of it. If there was someone inside, they might hear the shouts. She stopped by the building and turned to make a shushing motion at Cullen.

Cullen was in no mood to be shushed. "What are you doing? Are you out of your mind?"

"Shhh," Elly insisted. She crept into the building and slowly pulled open the trap door.

Cullen clenched his fists in frustration, but quietly. He grabbed her arm before she could start down the ladder and pulled her away so he could descend first.

Elly didn't object to the man in heavy plate armor going down first. She did tap her foot impatiently, grimaced when she became aware of the motion, and constrained herself to stillness. If she couldn't relax for one evening, she wasn't sure how she was going to get through another whole day.

When Cullen reached the bottom she shimmied down after him. It was a lot easier if you weren't wearing a load of armor. Cullen motioned for her to stay behind him as he crept around a curve leading to the large hollowed out portion of the cavern.

He stopped when a group of hooded figures came into view. He sighed, quietly, and whispered, "Do you always find these things in the first place you look?"

"Against all odds, yes." Elly grinned ferociously. If that fake Dark Wolf was here, she was going to enjoy having someone to take her anger out on. She stepped out into the open part of the cave. "Hello there," she called to the group. "I'm looking for somebody…"

One of them stepped forward with a wicked smile. He flourished a set of daggers and said, predictably, "Well you found somebody." He looked between his group of six and the two wardens. "Easy pickings. Get 'em boys!"

Elly frowned. She hadn't gotten a chance to ask them about the fake Dark Wolf. Apparently a group of two didn't give pause the way a group of four did. But there was plenty of water in the cavern. All she had to do was… Elly let out a shriek of protest as Cullen shoved her back into the tunnel behind them. "Stop it, I'm trying to cast!"

Cullen cursed as two of the rogues reacted to her words by pulling up bows and trying to line up a shot on her. He used his shield to bash the first man with the daggers out of the way and charged at one of the archers.

Elly scrambled to recover her balance. Ducking low, she scurried back into the cavern, to find limited cover behind a stack of crates. For the moment, she could see the water but the archers couldn't see her. That was all she needed.

Before the other four men could take advantage of Cullen's exposed back, water began to flow up over the smugglers' docks and into the body of the cavern. As it poured around the villains' feet it froze solid. The second archer was distracted by the cold clamp of ice around his feet and failed to properly prepare his shot; the arrow grazed his fellow bowman's leg instead of hitting Cullen. The man cursed and grabbed his bleeding leg. Cullen simply let his momentum bowl the wounded opponent over. After he'd spun past, water closed over the downed archer and began to freeze.

It finally occurred to one of the men stuck in the middle of the cavern to throw his daggers instead of holding them uselessly. Cullen called out a warning as the man wound back to throw.

Elly ducked and rolled to the other edge of the crate. As she lost her concentration, the ice covering the cavern floor split with a resounding crack. She peeked around the side to mark the position of the other archer. Now free of the ice, he was spinning around to line up a more precise shot on Cullen. Elly chilled the moist air in his lungs, sending him into a wracking coughing fit.

Cullen gave a roar worthy of Oghren and charged the remaining four opponents. Elly had to wonder if the dwarf had been giving him lessons, the way he fought with such reckless abandon. He used his shield less as a source of cover and more as an instrument to pummel with. The mage shook her head and focused. The water had receded, but the men's light armor was still soaked. One by one, Elly blasted them with a cold strong enough to ice over their armor, hampering their movements. She delicately worked around Cullen, afraid the former templar might react to her magic as an attack.

Hindered by ice, the men gradually fell to Cullen's wild swings. He spun around to check on the archers. One wasn't moving at all, and the other drew in a last, gasping breath before he, too, fell still.

Elly scanned the cavern with a frown. Things hadn't gone to plan. And using magic in front of Cullen made her nervous. She cautiously watched him approach, waiting to see what his reaction would be. His expression was enough to make her retreat to the wall.

Cullen had a half-crazed smile on his face, and his eyes gleamed with battle lust. Elly closed her eyes, not wanting to see the sword if it was coming for her next. There was little she could do against a prepared templar. She jumped at the sound of the sword smashing into a nearby crate. Suddenly something pushed her against the wall and she felt a pair of lips crush hers.

Elly's eyes opened wide in surprise. Cullen was kissing her. It was shockingly fierce but wonderful at the same time. After a moment she kissed him back. He smelt of sweat and blood, but he was warm and urgent and _right there_. She wanted it to last forever, but somewhere, disconnected from the rest of her body, her conscience niggled at her. No, she argued with herself. This is good. This is perfect. Niggle. Niggle. Niggle. Blight it. She escaped his mouth with a sigh. "Uh, Cullen?"

He jumped back from her like she'd bitten him, leaving her to stumble for balance. At some point she'd stopped leaning against the wall and started leaning into him instead. He shook his whole body, like a dog drying off. Cullen collected himself, passion suddenly bunched up and hidden away, like a pair of dirty knickers. "Are you alright? The fight, the adrenaline, I…"

"Well it's not like you tried to kill me." Unless he'd been trying to overstrain her heart, which was still galloping. Elly sighed and walked over to the docks. She peered over the edge at the water below, wondering if it would be chill enough to cool her off. If not, she figured she had just enough mana left to fix that.


	11. At the Crown and Lion

**At the Crown and Lion**

Elly was so terribly bored. It'd been a long and restless night, and now she was faced with a long and restless day. Breakfast was a single bright point. It was just as good as dinner the night before, and about ten times better than what they served at the keep.

"I'm surprised to find you eating down here. At the keep you're always hiding in your office."

Elly glanced up at Cullen as he took a seat across from her. She took in their surroundings with a shrug. "Not exactly crowded in here yet. Besides, only the innkeeper knows who I am. There's a chance the rest might mistake me for a good mage. If they even know such a thing exists."

Cullen looked dubious about such a thing existing as well. "A good mage?"

"You know. The ones that mostly get to stay in the tower and study things. Heal people. Not harm them."

"And that makes you…?"

A bad one, obviously. But Elly didn't bother saying it. "I kill people. Sure, I've killed lots of darkspawn. But also people."

Uneasy with the topic of conversation, Cullen shifted in his chair. "I'd… prefer to stick to the darkspawn. Last night, that was disturbing."

Elly got the impression he wasn't speaking about her charging off like an idiot, or even the aftermath. "You reminded me of Oghren, the way you fought."

"I was out of control." He was too disquieted to hide his worry the way he normally would. "It shouldn't feel that good to fight. Not when it's people. Darkspawn are one thing, but…" He shuddered.

Elly cautiously reached across the table, giving him plenty of time to move his hand if he didn't want to be touched. Her fingers lightly came to rest across his. "I remember Zev speaking about this. It…" Elly hadn't really understood it then, either. "I think it's possible to enjoy an action, without enjoying the result."

Cullen stiffened at the mention of the assassin. "To enjoy killing is wrong." Elly didn't disagree, but she didn't know what to say to him. "I've been trained to kill abominations and maleficarum. And now darkspawn." Cullen shook his head. "But regular people… Even criminals should be turned over to the law, not slaughtered like animals."

"But it doesn't always work out that way." Elly sighed. "I'm sorry I put you in the situation at all."

"It wasn't your fault." Cullen paused. "Well, it was. But we came out here to find and deal with the conspirators. I should've realized…" He looked lost, and for a moment she was reminded of the boy-that-was, before Duncan had come to the Tower. "I don't know what I'll do."

Elly squeezed his hand and released it. "I'd be more concerned if it didn't bother you at all. I think the fact that it does, means you can work this out." She seemed to recall having a similar conversation with Leliana, and that had worked out all right. Though she had to admit that visions from the Maker seemed a more benign kind of crazy. She thought it might be time for an encouraging smile, so she tried to summon one up.

Cullen chewed over her words. His brows narrowed. "Er, is there something wrong with your mouth?"

Elly's lips twitched as she tried to hold them in the correct formation. "Oh, forget it," she mumbled. "What are we going to do for another day and a half? Does any of your gear need replacing? I'll have to ask if they have fresh herbs around here…"

"Please don't start with the herbs again," Cullen grumbled, but seemed relieved at the change of subject. His eyes dropped to the remains of her breakfast. "Maybe you could convince the cook here to come to the keep."

"Maybe if our cooks knew more about herbs the food wouldn't be so bad," Elly protested. But she heeded his warning look. "Alright, I'm not usually very convincing. But for the sake of all our stomachs, I'll try." Absently, she fumbled in her belt pouch for a small vial. With an efficiency born of much practice, she popped the top off, took a small sip, replaced the lid and slid it back into her pouch. Then she got to her feet.

Cullen was frowning at her, and he hadn't gotten up. "What was that?"

"Hmm?" she said distractedly. "Aren't we going to speak to the cook now?"

"What did you just drink?" He pinned her with his eyes.

"Oh," Elly said. Oh, _that_. "Lyrium."

"Why would you be taking lyrium? You can't still be drained from yesterday, and I hope you don't mean to use _magic_ to convince the cook…"

Elly sighed and sank back into her chair. "No, of course not." She knew she should've taken it in her room, but she liked to imagine taking it with food helped dilute it. "Look, during the Blight, we never got a break. Sometimes we had to walk through the night, trying to get across Fereldan with darkspawn seemingly around every corner. Only to find our potential allies had problems of their own that _we_ had to solve before they would help us. We only slept when we collapsed." The mage shrugged helplessly. "So I used lyrium potions to restore my mana."

Cullen was silent, still watching her.

"A lot of potions. More than was safe, but we had no choice. We had no time. Even then we were too late. For Lothering, West Hills, so much of Denerim…"

"So what you're saying," Cullen said slowly, drawing her back on topic, "is you're addicted."

"A little, yes. Lyrium…" She looked up at him. "Well, you understand."

Cullen let a breath out harshly. "Oh, I understand about lyrium alright. What I don't understand is how you - knowing what would happen - could be so irresponsible."

Elly straightened in surprise. "Irresponsible? I was responsible for _too much_. Cullen, I told you, we had no choice."

"No choice?" the former templar asked bitterly. "Like the Chantry gave you lyrium without warning you that it's addictive, when you were too young to question it?"

Elly winced. "Fine, you're right. We had a choice, but not a choice I could've made." Her voice dropped to the barely audible. "Besides, I didn't think there would be an afterwards to face. Who would've thought we'd actually survive?"

Cullen sighed, his attention pulled away from the past and back to the present. "And does the Chantry know what you're using the lyrium for? I can't believe they're willing to give it to the Grey Wardens no questions asked."

"Uh, actually, we don't get our lyrium from the Chantry…" Elly looked at the ground beside her chair.

"Elly…" Cullen prompted.

"Well I sort of… met someone in Orzammar who's willing to…" Elly tried to think of a nicer word than 'smuggle'. "Supply us, perhaps not through official channels." She waited for the explosion.

Cullen obliged. "Are you out of your mind? If the Chantry finds out, they'll be forced to take action! Not just against you, but the dwarves as well. This could be a disaster. And also, the Grey Wardens encourage smuggling?"

"The Chantry needn't find out, though they will if you insist on yelling about it," Elly pointed out reasonably. "I don't know why you still expect the Wardens to be honorable. We'll do whatever we have to." It'd been drilled into her over and over again, and now it was her turn to pass on the lesson.

Cullen wrestled with his anger for a moment. When he finally spoke it was in a calmer voice, and the matter was pushed aside, at least for the moment. "I guess when the order was absent so long they became something of a legend. Reality doesn't measure up."

"It sure doesn't." Glad to be past the subject of lyrium, Elly relaxed a little. "I wanted a griffon!"

Cullen shook his head at her. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but she thought he looked a tiny bit amused.


	12. Paper Cuts

**Paper Cuts**

Elly squinted at the pile of letters on her desk and massaged her aching temples. She pulled a crinkled one off the top of the stack and started to smooth out the creases. The letter had taken less damage during the fight at old Stark's farm than its bearer – Lady Liza Packton - had. Elly read it for the third time.

_My Dear Lady P.,_

_I have to thank you for sending Ser T. to the Vigil. Now I can rest easy, knowing he is watching out for me. He is as brave and dashing as you promised, and I'm sure they will not dare to try anything with him here._

_The Commander was due to leave for Wending Woods this morning, but instead she's rushed off Maker knows where, with that poor templar she's enthralled. He seems like a good man, and I'm sure he would not follow her were not some foul magic involved._

_I will be relieved when this is all over, and I may meet your friend in Amaranthine._

_Your Friend,_

_R._

Elly sighed, remembering the way everyone had looked at her askance when she told them she knew who'd written it. But it finally made sense. The journey back to the keep had been too long and too short at the same time.

Her hands clenched involuntarily, adding new creases to the wrinkled sheet of paper. She should've handled it better. When they'd burst into Rosie's room to find the nurse and Ser Timothy together, the guards had hesitated, looking to her for orders. And she'd told them to take the two alive.

She'd seen the change come over Ser Timothy. Between breaths he'd gone from trapped panic to furious determination. In a blink, he'd pulled open the nightstand and knocked a lit candle into it. He looked like he could have been dancing, as he spun Rosie around in front of him and slid his dagger across her throat. Then he'd kicked her limp body at the guards and charged. In the suddenness of his attack he'd managed to kill one of the guards before they mobbed him. He made sure they didn't take him alive.

It had taken Elly longer than it should have to extinguish the newborn flames. Eventually she'd shaken herself free from shock, stopped the fire cold and carefully retrieved the bundle of letters.

Elly set the crinkled letter aside and reached for the rest of the bundle. The top letter had been too charred to make out. The rest were decipherable, though the sudden shift from heat to cold hadn't helped the paper. She fingered the featureless lumps of wax that had sealed the letters and gently spread them out on the desk.

_Dear R,_

_I am shocked and saddened to learn what is going on at the keep. Such things cannot be borne. But I am very glad you decided to contact me, and I believe we can help each other. Let me assure you that the problem will be dealt with._

_For now, you should encourage the templar from Amaranthine to do his sacred duty and protect the innocent residents of the keep from unfettered magic. My courier has a note for you to pass on to him, from a very powerful friend in Amaranthine. I hope one day you can make her acquaintance as well._

_Maker protect you,_

_L._

Elly sighed wearily. They were going to have to investigate Doyle as well, and she was sure Cullen wasn't going to like it. But this time it would be done discretely; she couldn't endure more blood and fire in the night. And Rosie…

_My Dear Friend,_

_I completely understand and sympathize with your feelings about the C. Although she is not from that vile clan that so cruelly and prematurely took your parents from you, she is just as much an elf, and cannot be trusted holding power over human lives. The thought of what damage she might do leaves me sleepless at night._

_But you, my dear, are to be commended for your bravery. Know that things are already in motion, and you won't have to suffer her presence for long. Keep your chin up and your eyes open._

_Maker watch over you,_

_L._

Elly couldn't help but feel uneasy at the invasion of privacy. The knowledge that Rosie was beyond objecting offered no comfort. She briefly toyed with the idea of passing the job off to someone else, but squared her shoulders and forged on.

_My Dear Friend,_

_I was glad to hear from you again so soon. While I myself did not ever have the honor of meeting your parents, my friend in Amaranthine tells me she did business with them quite frequently. You may have been too young to be aware of their prestige, but she informs me they were the finest glassblowers in Fereldan. The most elegant ornaments in her estate are of their making. _

_She also assures me that she would be happy to help out a daughter of theirs, and would have done so sooner, had she known of your predicament. She looks forward to meeting you when this business at the keep is settled. I hope this is agreeable to you._

_Please include news of the keep in your next letter._

_Maker protect you,_

_L._

Elly closed her eyes. It didn't stop the throbbing behind them. She was sure the powerful friend in Amaranthine had to be Bann Esmerelle, but Lady Packton had been cautious. This wasn't proof of her involvement. And this group didn't seem like the type to leave loose ends. Most likely, the only powerful figure they'd planned on Rosie meeting was the Maker.

_My Dear Friend,_

_I am deeply grieved by your latest news. It pains me to say it, but I fear you are right. You may have been the victim of blood magic. Along with this letter I am sending someone familiar to you. He will remain at the keep and protect you. Things are moving quickly now and there is something I need you to do. T. will explain everything._

_Maker watch over you,_

_L._

Elly already knew the conspirators had hired mercenaries and assassins. But what had they wanted Rosie to do? She squinted again at the burnt letter, but it was too blackened and crumbled. What few words she could make out had no meaning out of context. She gently pushed the papers aside, then crossed her arms on the desk and settled her head on them. Tomorrow was going to be another long day.


	13. If Wishes Were Fishes

**If Wishes Were Fishes**

Elly fiddled with the papers on her desk as the courier entered her office. She felt distinctly uneasy intercepting someone's personal correspondence. "Why didn't I have someone else do this…?"

"Beg your pardon, Ser?" The courier paused uncertainly, bundle of letters half-extended.

"Oh, no, I was just talking to myself," she hastened to assure him. She gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "Not to a demon or anything like that, no need to worry."

The young man hadn't actually looked that worried. At least before she mentioned demons. He gulped audibly, dumped the bundle on her desk, and then shuffled back. "Um, if that's all, Ser?"

"That's all." Elly watched him retreat. "What did I say?" She carefully picked her way through the mail. It was important to find something, but she hoped she wouldn't. If she did, she'd have to read it.

At the bottom of the pile was a letter addressed to Ser Doyle. She hesitated, fiddling with it. "It might be some official Chantry thing…" she murmured hopefully as she broke the seal.

But of course it wasn't. She gritted her teeth as she skimmed over the letter. It was from the steward of Bann Esmerelle's estate, updating Doyle on the health of his sister. Elly groaned and swept the letter into a pocket of her robe. Of course there was a sister involved. Why would things start being simple?

She found Cullen in the practice yard, strengthening his shoulder. Another time she might have been delayed to watch him, but it felt like the stolen letter was burning its way through her pocket. She caught the other Warden's attention with a wave and waited while he made his way over. "How is your shoulder?"

Cullen eyed her steadily. He was flushed from the exercise but in complete control, unlike when he fought. "My shoulder is fine. What's the problem?"

Elly hadn't really considered how to broach the topic. "Does there have to be a problem?"

His brows peaked. "There's always a problem."

"Well, that's true." Elly pulled the letter out of her pocket. "It's about Ser Doyle. Seems he's linked to Bann Esmerelle by way of a sister in her care." His face hardened. She thrust the letter at him. "Read it yourself."

Cullen scanned it, then looked up with a frown. "Why are you showing me this?"

"I thought you could go talk to him."

"What do you expect me to say?" he asked, exasperated.

"I don't know. He's a Templar. You used to be a Templar. You could… pray together?" She ran over that in her head and winced.

Cullen gave a long-suffering sigh. "Isn't this something you should handle yourself, Commander? You do have guards to back you up."

Elly grimaced at the reminder. "I know. But I thought… maybe he would trust you. And cooperate. I don't want it to be like with Rosie."

"This is nothing like that." His eyes narrowed. "Why don't you want to confront him?"

"He's a _Templar_!" As far as Elly was concerned that said it all.

Cullen missed the point. "If you think dragging me into this is going to make things go any better with the Chantry, you're wrong."

"Can they really complain if I just send him back to Amaranthine for Mother Leanna to deal with?" Before he could respond she answered her own question. "Never mind, I'm sure they can. They're already… unhappy with me."

He pressed his lips together at her word choice. "You've given them plenty of reason to disapprove."

Elly spread her hands in mute appeal. "This isn't the time for a lecture. Please, Cullen, will you help?"

He looked away from her and mumbled something at the ground.

"What was that?"

Cullen's eyes found her face again, but his was as unreadable as ever. "Come on." He spun on his heel and headed for the keep without a backwards glance. Elly had to hitch up her robe and jog to keep up.

She bit back nervous prattle as they wound their way through the Vigil's corridors. Doyle had a room to himself, not far from the small chapel used by residents of the Keep. Elly hadn't bothered to ask Varel if that was coincidence or done on purpose, but now she wondered about it to take her mind off other things. Cullen waited expectantly when they reached the door.

Elly took a deep breath, chiding herself for acting like a child. The thought that it wasn't too late to come back with guards crossed her mind. She rapped on the door quietly, then again, louder.

It didn't take long for Doyle to open the door. He took in Elly and Cullen, settling on the former templar. "Is she here to turn herself in?"

The mage sputtered. "Turn myself in?" A restraining hand on her shoulder silenced further protest.

Cullen shook his head in warning. "Ser Doyle, we'd like to talk to you in private. May we come in?"

The templar studied them dubiously, but he stepped back to allow them into the room. "If you must." He closed the door behind the pair without taking his eyes off them. "What is this about?"

"We know you're connected to them," Elly began.

Cullen cut her off. "I think what the Commander means to say is she regrets the necessity of intercepting your mail."

Elly was sure that was _not_ what she meant to say. She frowned at Cullen. "He's the one who-"

"She needn't even mention your resignation from this post. Because a Templar wouldn't demean his vows by standing still for such blackmail."

Doyle's face had gone ashen. He turned away, self righteousness starting to crumble at Cullen's words.

"And I'm sure," Cullen continued, while Elly gaped at him, "That she wishes to request your aid in exposing those who tried to tarnish the Order."

"I do?" Elly fumbled as Cullen finished. "Oh, right. I do." She looked at the other man. Doyle seemed to be in his own private world of misery. She averted her gaze. "We just need some proof that Bann Esmerelle is behind this."

Doyle ignored the mage and instead focused desperately on Cullen. "Maker help me, I shouldn't have let this go on. But I can't speak out." He flinched at Cullen's steady look and shook his head in denial. "I can't endanger my sister."

Reminded of the letter, Elly carefully pressed it into his hands. "Your sister, she's very sick?" Doyle nodded without looking at her. "Well," she continued, "maybe I could heal her? Or Anders, he's very good at it…"

Her suggestion stirred some life back into him, but not in the way she'd hoped. He clutched the letter and spun to shake a fist at her. "You will not use your filthy magic on her!"

Elly stepped back involuntarily. "I don't understand. I'm trying to _help_ her. Surely you don't want to depend on Bann Esmerelle?"

Like a dream, Doyle's shame and regret faded away in the light of resolution. He turned the full force of his templar glare on her. "I may have failed the last test, but I won't falter again. I won't let you or any other mage curse my sister with your foul magic!"

Elly could hardly believe the sudden change. Fear of magic was probably considered ideal in templar recruits, but how could the man not want his sister to get better? "I don't… You…" Frustrated and unable to express it, she finally just turned on him and left the room. "Bloody templars!"

Cullen found her in her office awhile later. She thought he was winding up for another lecture, but he surprised her. "It was kind of you to want to help his sister, after what he did."

The unexpected compliment caught her off balance, but it was an easy one to dismiss. "No, it really wasn't."

"The part where you ran away afterwards was awkward, but the thought-"

Elly's laugh was devoid of humor. "Don't tell me it's the thought that counts." It suddenly seemed difficult to swallow. "I don't help people out of kindness. It shouldn't count at all."

Oddly enough, Cullen didn't ask for clarification. "But you hope it does."

"I guess I do." It was embarrassing how easily he caught her meaning. Perhaps he dwelled on it as well. Elly couldn't convince herself that no news was good news when it came to Morrigan. "I worry that I may have made a mistake."

Cullen shrugged uneasily. "You could do worse than try to atone by helping people."

Elly nodded bleakly. That was as close to a reassurance as she was likely to get, and probably much kinder than what he really thought. "Thank you for your help. Is Doyle…?"

"Being escorted back to Amaranthine." He looked like he wanted to say more on the subject, but generously left it at that.

"Thank you," Elly repeated as he ducked out of the office, leaving her alone with her thoughts.


	14. Outside the Wending Woods

**Outside the Wending Woods**

"What _I_ want to know is why it had to take our clothes."

Elly groaned and (for the fifth time) said, "I don't know, Anders."

"I understand taking armor. But why take our robes?"

"I don't know."

"It wouldn't have to take our robes off to draw blood."

"I'm aware."

"Does he _ever_ shut up?" Velanna growled.

"Not very often," Sigrun chipped in.

"They almost got Ser-Pounce-a-lot! Good thing he's too quick for those darkspawn." Anders pulled the kitten out of his robe, swapping to the kind of voice adults tend to use for speaking to very small children. "Aren't you, Ser Pounce-a-lot? Who's a smart kitty? You are!"

Velanna wrinkled her nose in disgust. "What is wrong with him?"

Elly shrugged helplessly. "He's just… Anders."

"Why do you travel with him? He doesn't even seem to be a good mage." The human in question ignored them as he played with his kitten.

"He's a very gifted healer," Elly protested.

"I'd rather destroy my enemies before they can harm me." Velanna said haughtily.

"Oh, yes." Anders was paying more attention than she'd thought. "Ignite first, ask questions later. Great system you have there."

Elly fished for a new topic. "So… about that talking darkspawn emissary…."

Velanna shuddered. "What did that monster do to Seranni? Why would she stay with it?"

The others sobered. Elly shook her head helplessly. "Something to do with the taint, I think. She looked…" She felt pinned under the other elf's harsh gaze. "Blighted. Look, we didn't find that much, just a few notes about Old Gods and blood. Apparently it was using Seranni's blood for something, but I don't know what."

"I thought I saw a dwarf with it, there at the end." Sigrun looked uneasy. "What would a dwarf being doing with a darkspawn?"

Anders shrugged. "I didn't see anyone; I was a bit distracted by the dragons!"

"At least they were small dragons," Elly said reasonably.

Anders looked bemused. "I… really don't know if you're joking or not."

Sigrun rolled her eyes. "The Commander isn't the joking type."

"How is this helping us find Seranni?" Velanna broke in, voice thick with anger. The others stumbled in surprise when the ground gave a faint tremor.

"Velanna," Elly waited until she caught the other elf's eyes. "I promise you, we'll search for them. This emissary has been capturing Grey Wardens, experimenting on us. This isn't something we could ignore, even if we wanted to."

The Dalish elf clenched her staff, but she listened carefully. Anger faded into hard determination. "I understand."

Elly was glad the two purposes coincided so neatly. "Good. Um, there is one more thing…"

"Yes?" Velanna snapped.

"You'll need to be a little more careful with magic at the keep."

Velanna's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

Elly frowned. "Well just now you got angry and the ground sort of shook a bit…"

"I did no such thing!" Velanna gave her an indignant look and turned away.

Sigrun grinned slyly. "She just doesn't want you to upset her ex-templar boyfriend."

Elly choked. "He is not my boyfriend! Sigrun! You've been spending too much time with Oghren."

"He's the only other person around who can hold his ale." The dwarf shrugged unrepentantly.

Velanna looked like she'd caught an insect in her mouth. She turned her disapproval on Elly. "You're involved with a shem?"

"Not that _that_'s any of your business. But it's not as though Grey Wardens are likely to have children."

"Oh." Against all odds, Velanna's back managed to get even straighter. "Well, you're right, it isn't my business."

Elly froze, taken aback. "Wait, you're not going to taunt me about it?"

Bafflement clouded Velanna's face. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"Because it's fun," Sigrun and Anders answered in unison.

"You're not going to tease me?" Elly continued. "You're not going to make me blush? To see if my skin will match my hair?"

The Dalish elf looked like she was starting to have doubts about the Commander's sanity. "I already told you I wouldn't-"

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Overwhelmed with relief, Elly flung her arms around the other elven woman.

Velanna went stiff as a board, awkwardly trying to pull back from the sudden, enthusiastic hug. "What… What are you doing? Stop this at once."

Anders let his breath out in a whoosh of surprise. Sigrun snickered. Elly let go of the other elf immediately, twitching her robes straight as she tried to regain her composure. "I'm… sorry. I don't know what came over me."

"Well I hope not all flat-ears behave like this." Looking disgruntled, Velanna brushed at her own robes. She spun away to mumble to herself, but lowering her voice wasn't something she had much practice with. "I failed to look after my own younger sister, I certainly don't need another one."

"Of course." Elly trailed after Velanna, staying just far enough away that the other woman needn't fear another hug. Not that one was likely to come. "Will you tell me more about the Dalish?"

Velanna sighed in resignation.


	15. A Riotous Headache

**A Riotous Headache**

Clamorous shouting attended the Grey Wardens' return to Vigil's Keep. The small group carefully skirted the desperate mob gathered in the courtyard. Elly choked on the stench of alcohol and sweat emanating from the crowd. They weren't armored, but they'd picked up whatever weapons they could find: hunting bows, axes, spades, makeshift clubs and even a few swords.

Guards struggled to hold the mob back from the main gate. They didn't have the numbers to keep them back for long; the Vigil's forces were spread too thin, trying to protect the roads and farms, as well as the city, from the darkspawn threat.

When the guards let Elly pass, the clamor rose even higher. "Arlessa, my family needs food!" "My children are starving!" "Bloody feed your people!" Elly strove to tune out the shouting and catch what Varel and Garevel were saying.

The seneschal seemed relieved to see the returning Wardens, but Elly didn't think four more people would deter this crowd, even if some of them were mages. They were drunk and desperate. She stared at the mob and shook her head helplessly as Varel and Garevel argued about the best way to handle the revolt.

"You have to do _something_, Commander," Varel finally said. Both men were watching her expectantly. Once again, everyone was waiting for her to do something.

Elly gritted her teeth and willed herself into motion. As she stepped up to the line of guards, the noise subsided. She didn't want to hurt these people, but she hadn't the faintest idea what to say. "Uh… I know things are rough right now, but everyone is doing the best they can."

The silence didn't last long. People began to mutter in disbelief. Someone shouted, "You don't seem to have it that rough!" It was hard to make out specific complaints in the ensuing outcry, but Elly heard something about fancy robes and fine food in the city.

It probably wasn't the time to explain that her robes were not purchased, but looted. She raised her voice, wishing she knew some kind of magic to increase projection. "We're doing the best we can to-"

Nobody was paying attention anymore. A man whose voice did carry well yelled, "If we get to the granaries, we can feed our families!" He raised a rusty old sword high into the air and swung it down at the nearest guard. The rest of the crowd followed suit.

Elly froze as things erupted around her. She wasn't surprised she lacked the words to connect with a crowd of strangers. But they weren't just strangers; they were people she was responsible for. She shied away from the knowledge that she'd failed and now she'd have to fight them. If only she had more time…

She brought her hands up in an appeasing gesture, shaking her head urgently. The club curving towards her head was unimpressed.

_She stared at the wooden floor as Greagoir and Irving loomed over her, glowering in reproof. "We're very disappointed in you child. Now, give that here."_

_She clutched her Dalish doll tight and stared at Greagoir's knees. He held his hand out, waiting. Reluctantly she handed the doll over to him._

_Irving nodded gently. "You can have it back when you learn how to behave yourself. Now, go back outside and play with the other children."_

_She dragged her feet as she left the cozy little cottage, shuffling through the door to the grassy meadow beyond. A group of children ran about, laughing and playing. Each one held on to their doll. _

_She stopped just outside the door, staring down at her empty hands. Movement eventually caught her eye, and she glanced to her left to see the arrival of the darkspawn. Each blighted creature had a little emissary doll. The figure looked strangely familiar. The other children cheerfully welcomed the monsters into their game._

_She frowned and approached the mixed group cautiously. They went about their business for a few minutes, but as she drew close, they all stopped and turned to stare at her. One little girl held up a hand to stop her. "Where's your doll? You can't play without your doll." Children and darkspawn alike scowled at her as she helplessly spread her empty hands._

"Miss Maggie, huh?" Sigrun was waving an armless doll at Nathaniel.

Nathaniel shrugged at the dwarf. "Delilah and I had a fight. Then I ripped off Maggie's arms and hid them in places where Delilah would find them later."

"What a sweetheart you were." Sigrun rolled her eyes, and then turned in her seat to face the nearest infirmary cot. "Commander, you're awake!"

Elly, lying on the cot, turned to get a better view. Pain clanged through her head and she stifled a groan. When the pain subsided some, she managed to focus on the armless doll. "I think I'm awake..."

Sigrun followed the mage's gaze. "Oh, this?" She waved the doll about, then tossed it into Nathaniel's lap. "Found it under my bed. It was his sister's."

That seemed reasonable enough. Elly caught herself before she nodded. She placed a restraining hand on her head, just to make sure it wouldn't explode. "What happened?"

Sigrun slid to her feet. "Nathaniel can tell you. I should go get Anders. He wanted to check on you when you woke up. Said head injuries can be tricky."

Elly very slowly turned to face Nathaniel.

He shrugged unapologetically. "You were knocked unconscious." He sighed. "We had to kill the rioters. This was probably instigated by Lady Packton. Even though we took care of her, things were already set in motion."

"That could be what she meant in the letter…" Elly gave a sigh of her own. "You know, they had a point. I'm not really fit for command."

Before Nathaniel could reply, Oghren tottered into the room. "Ancestors, she's about to get into how everything in the whole world is her fault again, isn't she?"

Nathaniel gave the dwarf a knowing grin. "That does seem to be one of her favorite subjects."

Elly blinked in surprise at Oghren's words, but didn't dare turn her head again yet. Surely she was allowed a little self-pity, given the situation? And she was pretty sure you were supposed to be nice to injured people. "Hey," she protested.

Oghren snorted. "I'd rather go drown myself in that celebration keg than listen to you go on about all the things you can't do. If defeating the sodding archdemon wasn't enough to give you a little confidence, I don't know what will."

The dwarf's words surprised Elly. He usually wasn't one to complain. "Oghren, are you… sober?"

"Heh, not for long." Oghren pulled out a flask and hopped up into the chair Sigrun had vacated. "You should get some dwarf-sized chairs around here."

"We could actually do with some smaller seats." Elly was sidetracked for a moment, until the previous topic rudely intruded into her thoughts. "Well, it's not as though I killed the archdemon all by myself. It took armies to get to it. All I had to do was stick it in the head once it was down."

Oghren took a large swig from the flask and grumbled at her. "You're not fooling me. I was there."

Elly forgot herself enough to turn her head and instantly regretted it. "Ugh. Oghren, the whole Blight thing just sort of happened to us. The odds were against us but at least we always had some kind of direction. This is… different."

"Nuh, uh. And if you're gonna be like this, we'll just find someone else to keep us company." The dwarf slid to his feet. "Sodding chair is uncomfortable anyway." At least Nathaniel looked a little apologetic as he followed Oghren out of the room.

Feeling moody, Elly crossed her arms and stared at the ceiling for awhile. At some point Anders stopped by to examine her head. Healing magic had kept the swelling down, but it still throbbed. He told her to stay in bed for the rest of the day and let him know if she experienced any other symptoms. She grumbled something noncommittal at him and he left.

The ceiling wasn't really that engaging. There were no water stains in interesting shapes, looking like a tree from one angle and a nug from another. But she stared at it all the same as she tried to sort out Oghren's reaction. So perhaps she had been a bit mopey since the whole conspiracy plot had been uncovered, just going through the motions, but he was the last person she expected to complain. Though, on the other hand, he knew her better than the others.

Her musings were interrupted by yet another visitor. This time it was Cullen, and he didn't look pleased with her either. "So you find the person responsible for slaughtering all those caravans. And you decide to bring her here, to become a Grey Warden! Really, Elly?"

As his voice grew louder and louder, Elly clutched her head with both hands. Each word began to feel like a hammer blow.

Cullen caught her reaction and paused. His voice instantly dropped to a whisper. "I'm sorry. Anders told me you were alright."

"Thanks for that, Anders," Elly grumbled to herself. She cautiously released her head; the pounding seemed to have stopped. "Please, no yelling." Her lips turned down in thought. "Why are you always yelling at me, anyway? I never see you yell at anyone else, not even Anders. You just do that scary templar…" She reconsidered her words. "Never mind."

Cullen sighed and came to the side of her cot. He stared down at her for awhile, contained as always. When he finally spoke, he sounded like he was explaining something to a child. "I yell because I'm concerned."

Elly's brows furrowed. She carefully turned her head to get a better view of him. "I just thought you were angry. You never used to yell, back in the Tower…"

"We've both changed a lot since then, Elly."

"I guess we have." They _had_ both changed, more than she'd realized. "It's like we have to get to know each other all over again. As if it wasn't hard enough the first time." Her lips twitched as she thought of how incredibly shy they'd both been.

"I wasn't supposed to speak to you at all, then," Cullen pointed out quietly. "I was naïve. I didn't realize how dangerous mages are. How dangerous you are. You sat in the library, hiding behind your books…"

"I wish I was sitting there still. Cullen, I don't _want_ to hurt anyone." The lump on her head gave mute testimony to that.

He shook his head. She got the impression it was more at himself than at her. "You're the most dangerous mage here."

"Uh… You have met Velanna, right?"

Cullen ignored her interruption. "You're the most dangerous," he insisted. "Because I don't always see you as a mage."

"Ah." Elly wasn't sure what to say to that, so they lapsed into silence. Cullen pulled a chair over and quietly sat down. The evening passed, with each of them lost in their own thoughts, but content with the company nonetheless.


	16. Justice for All

**Justice for All**

Elly watched Justice standing unnaturally still by the well in Vigil's courtyard. There were times when he acted almost human, but before she could forget he wasn't, he'd do something to shatter the illusion. She found herself shifting uneasily, as if she could make up for his lack of motion with her own.

She noticed movement from the Keep's main gate and hoped it was Nathaniel and Velanna. Luck was not with her. Cullen approached, looking grave and uneasy, and focused on Justice.

Elly held up a hand to stall him, launching into a rushed speech. "Before you start yelling, he's a spirit of justice, not a demon. He's stuck in this body - not by choice - and he doesn't know how to get back to the Fade." She stopped just long enough to suck in a gulp of air. "Oh, and he's willing to fight darkspawn."

Cullen opened his mouth. He shut it again. His teeth ground together. "Is there any point in saying it?"

"Well, if it would make you feel any better..." Elly's voice went flat despite her puzzlement at his lack of argument.

"No, it really wouldn't." He sighed, exasperation slipping through. "And where are you going with… it?"

Elly searched for some phrasing that would make the task sound less absurd. "We're… going to find Kristoff's wife?" That wasn't it.

"You're… taking it to see the wife… of the dead man it's possessing?" Cullen bit his lip, but couldn't hold his silence for long. "You think that's a good idea?"

"Probably not." Elly watched Justice out of the corner of her eye. "We're going though."

Cullen's lips pressed tighter together, the only visible sign of his annoyance. "I realize you took a blow to the head a couple weeks ago, but…"

"Well it _might_ help. He seems very concerned about it. And my head is _fine_."

Cullen turned away from her, regarding the embodied spirit while one hand drifted to his sword hilt. He didn't pull it from the scabbard, merely held a position where he easily could. "If you say so." He sounded doubtful.

Perhaps noticing the scrutiny, Justice approached the pair. He marked Cullen's stance but focused mainly on the ex-templar's face. He shuffled closer, as if to see him better, but stopped when Cullen tensed. "I recognize you. You were here, when Kristoff was here. Training to be a Grey Warden."

Elly wrung her hands in chagrin. "I should've realized. Of course you knew Kristoff." She winced at her own ineloquence. "Sorry."

"I didn't know him that well. He wasn't at the Keep often." Cullen didn't spare her a glance; he remained focused on Justice. "His wife followed him here from Jader, you know."

"Yes. Aura," Justice agreed. "I fear I have unintentionally done her harm. I wish to make amends."

"You should leave his body, then." Cullen's grip on the sword hilt tightened, but he still made no move to draw it. "Kristoff was a good man. What you're doing is wrong."

"You may be right," Justice conceded. "But I know of no way to return to the Fade. What would you have me do, if not seek vengeance for this man?"

Having no answer, Cullen shook his head and turned away from the spirit. He didn't look at Elly when he addressed her. "Do what you will. Don't be surprised when this blows up in your face."

Elly watched Cullen walk back to the keep with a worried frown. "I think I liked it better when he yelled at me," she mumbled to herself. She found Justice watching her; his face betrayed a lack of understanding. "Giving up isn't like him." She shrugged and tried to push Cullen's cold anger from her mind.

Nathaniel and Velanna left the keep at last. They were engrossed in their own conversation, paying the others little heed until Elly loudly cleared her throat. Velanna wore a pleased grin.

To find Velanna speaking so amiably - perhaps even flirting – with a human was jarring. "What kept you two?" Elly asked them, irritated.

"Sorry, Commander." In spite of his words, Nathaniel didn't sound contrite. "We're here now." Though he spoke to Elly, he looked pensively at Velanna. "Have you heard anything yet? From Orlais?"

"About…that emissary and its experiments?" Elly frowned and looked at Velanna as well. The Dalish elf had sobered, and Elly knew she was probably thinking about her sister. "Nothing yet, but travel _is_ tricky at the moment. More and more darkspawn have been sighted, and we can't be everywhere at once."

"They must know something," Nathaniel insisted, all forced optimism. "That thing knew too much about Grey Wardens."

"Hopefully we'll hear back soon." Elly had nothing else to offer. "Now, can we get going?"

The others nodded readiness, but there was one more interruption. Cullen returned to the courtyard, a small field pack slung over his shoulder. Elly stared at him, unsurprised.

"I know how to fight demons," he said, like that should be explanation enough for anyone. He refused to look at Justice.

"Cullen, you aren't in charge…" Elly pointed out.

"I think we're a little old for a nursemaid," Nathaniel offered, deadpan.

Velanna's eyes narrowed at the ex-templar. Elly stifled a groan. She'd done her best to keep the two of them apart the past few weeks. And they'd _almost_ made it out of the courtyard. But the Dalish elf was already swinging around to her. "Why would you let this unpleasant shem tell you what to do?"

Cullen pierced Velanna with a menacing glare of his own. "You're suggesting she should listen to a deranged apostate, who amuses herself by slaughtering trade caravans?"

Elly tried to wave them to silence. "Really not the time or the place for this."

Velanna didn't pause. "In fact, she listens to me very carefully." She grinned at Cullen's surprised stuttering. "She devours everything I can tell her about the Creators and the Forgotten Ones."

Cullen looked at Elly incredulously. "Don't tell me you believe in her heathen gods now."

"We're not having this conversation." Elly pointed at an outlying building she thought served as storage space. She hoped it at least provided some privacy. "Inside." Not that Elly thought she had any face left to save, but she found it unnerving, the way everyone in the courtyard had stopped what they were doing and stared.

The storage shed was dusty and empty. It looked like it hadn't been used in years. Neither spoke until Elly closed the door, at which point they both launched into tirades. "No," Elly overrode him. "Stop treating me like a child. Especially in front of _them_." A finger jab indicated the courtyard, and the people in it.

"Stop acting like one." Cullen didn't show his anger, but his voice got progressively louder. "You go tramping across the countryside, meet dangerous strangers, let them follow you home, and then do whatever they ask of you!"

Elly had prepared to shout back at him, but her response trickled out in a whisper. "They're my friends."

"Maybe you should stop worrying about making friends and try being a responsible commander instead."

Elly crossed her arms. She found her volume again, but it spoke more of frustration than anger. "Maybe I can't."

Cullen paused. When he spoke again, it was at a more reasonable volume. "Can't what?"

"Be a good commander. I can't do it. Oghren won't let me say it, but it's true." She shook her head. If only she could shake that knowledge from it. "I can be a Grey Warden. I'm good at magic; I can kill darkspawn. But lead? No."

"I don't see that you have a choice."

"I guess I don't." Right now, she added silently. But later… "Blight it, we're wasting daylight. Let's get to Amaranthine."

"You're still going?" Cullen slipped, in surprise at the sudden topic change. She caught the disappointment on his face.

"Yes. And I suppose you're still coming?"

Elly didn't need to wait for his nod; she already knew the answer. She manhandled the innocent door on her way out.


	17. The Architect of Our Sorrows

**The Architect of Our Sorrows**

Elly found Drake's Fall fascinating. "I wonder why they built this place out here. Something to do with the dragons, maybe. Must be something here, if they bothered to construct all this…" She ran a hand across a dirty wall. "Below ground, too." She would have liked to examine the ruins, but the inescapable feel of corruption throughout made her skittish. "Perhaps that's what attracted the darkspawn. The power here."

Sigrun, looking ill at ease as well, drew her daggers. "Not to rain on your parade, but I hope not. They feel close…"

A voice from the shadows had them all spinning around, weapons at the ready, before recognition set in. "I am glad to see you are well, sister."

"Seranni!" Velanna was at her sister's side before the others could recover from their surprise. Shock was replaced by relief, which in turn gave way to a rapid firing of questions.

Seranni was visibly infected with the taint, but not like a ghoul. She'd transformed into something else: something between a Warden and a darkspawn. Elly imagined that was better than a being a broodmother, at least. She shook her head and tried to focus on what the girl was telling Velanna. "The Architect is kind to me, and tender, and he has told me his plan."

Elly missed what she said next because Sigrun leaned over to whisper, "Am I the only one incredibly disturbed by that?"

"No. But…" Elly pressed a finger against her lips. She caught the end of some kind of comparison between the darkspawn and the Dalish.

"Everything he's done, he's done to help his people. You can respect that, can't you, sister?"

Velanna, for her part, looked unable to believe her ears. "Seranni, they killed our friends, and so many others. Don't you remember?"

"I do, and this is why I must help them. They are like children – come into the world with no understanding of what is good or fair." Seranni smiled sadly, giving them the impression that these creatures had become dear to her. "They have a bestial nature, but I've seen them overcome it. They just need to be shown how." Velanna and Elly both voiced protest, but Seranni suddenly pointed into the ruins. "Agents of the Mother have found you."

There were darkspawn charging up the steps, and grub-like creatures rolling out from the walls themselves. By the time they'd dispatched the monsters, Seranni had vanished back into the shadows. Seething with frustration, Velanna slammed her staff into the ground. "No! Where did she go?"

"Maybe we'll find out?" Elly's voice betrayed her uncertainty, but she pushed on in spite of this. "I think we should head down, there seems to be some kind of strange chamber below. It… could be something."

"I can't wait…" Sigrun grumbled, with no trace of her usual cheery front.

* * *

"The first blood came from Utha, freely given," the Architect was explaining. "She was a Grey Warden and joined us…many years ago."

Elly studied the Architect's dwarven companion, frowning thoughtfully. This was exactly the sort of decision she'd dreaded having to make. Choosing the city over the keep had been hard enough. This somehow seemed worse. Even with hours and hours to speak to the Architect, she would never be well-informed enough to make this choice. It was something that deserved weeks of careful research and here she was, forced to make a call on only moment's notice.

Velanna and Oghren were taking the confrontation calmly enough, but Sigrun was upset enough for them both. She watched Utha as well, shaking her head violently. "This reeks of stupid! The last thing we need is more darkspawn thinking for themselves!"

Oghren shrugged. "If playing with their newfound minds keeps the darkspawn away from Orzammar, I'm happy."

Sigrun's gestures were hampered by her refusal to sheathe her daggers, but she managed to convey agitation. "This is a monster! How can you trust what it says?"

"The Wardens are supposed to stop the Blight." Oghren grinned in the face of her unease. "We'll be retired and talking about the glory days in no time!"

Velanna had seemed uncertain at first, while the Architect evaded all questions about Seranni. But now she nodded agreement. "This is what my sister saw. An ally! Amongst the darkspawn! This is an opportunity we cannot pass up."

She didn't need to add that the Architect was their only chance of finding Seranni again. Elly took a deep breath and weighed her choices. It felt like she should be flattened by the combined weight of their stares. Everyone was waiting on her, again.

She'd been fighting the darkspawn for nearly two years now. But, whether it was wishful thinking or not, she couldn't shake the feeling these intelligent darkspawn were somehow different. The Architect… It was almost possible to sympathize with the creature. The way it spoke of being an outsider amongst its own kind… It sounded lonely. And when it confessed it was rarely able to judge how her kind would react… well, Elly often felt that way herself.

She didn't think she could trust the Architect. But perhaps to hold off on killing it, to deal with the Mother and figure out what to do with the Architect later… That seemed reasonable. "Very well," she said, her words barely penetrating the smothering silence. "You have an ally."

Oghren and Velanna nodded. Sigrun's exhale echoed through the soaring chamber. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Elly _didn't_ know what she was doing, but it seemed wise not to mention that to Sigrun.

* * *

The Mother wiggled her spindly fingers in glee. "Ah, but perhaps the Warden would like to hear how it was that the Father began the Blight? You want the source of the archdemon, the one who brought all our kind to the surface? Here he is!"

Oghren's eyes widened. "Well, paint me green and call me a turnip."

Elly felt very little surprise. Her first reaction was annoyance, but the annoyance was directed more at herself than at the Architect. She was sure now, that she'd have been better off pondering this decision and then choosing the opposite of whatever _seemed_ right. She shook her head in denial as the Architect spoke – quite calmly – of the disaster it called an 'unlucky error.' Its reaction seemed incomprehensible to her – seemed utterly alien – and she wondered how she'd been able to empathize with this creature only minutes before.

Sigrun didn't speak, but her look clearly said 'I told you so.'

The Mother managed to banish the Architect's projection, leaving the Wardens alone against her. Elly's nails dug into the palms of her hands. It was a safe bet that the Architect wouldn't be around to answer questions after this battle. She listened with only half an ear to the Mother's mad ramblings. Then a tentacle erupted from the ground beneath her feet, forcing Elly to push aside self-recriminations and focus on survival.

She fought well, as she always did, but it brought no satisfaction. She felt no victory, felt not even relief, when the Mother fell still at last. All she could think about was what the Wardens would say when they found out she'd had the creature responsible for starting the last Blight right in front of her, and let him get away. She couldn't meet anyone's eyes. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention this. For a little while. I know I have to tell them, and I will. I just need a little time."


	18. Vigil Interrupted

**Vigil Interrupted**

Elly lost her footing on a dip in the road as the Vigil came into view, staff slipping from her grasp. The outer walls were scorched but intact. The gates were utterly demolished. When the wind picked up it blew with it the scent of burnt corruption from a large pit dug to the south of the road. The other side of the road had been cleared to make room for the funeral pyres. "I… I didn't think it would be this bad." Before they'd left for the Dragonbone Wastes, Garevel had warned her that what little they'd heard from the Vigil was "not good." But she hadn't imagined this.

"Why not?" Velanna's tone held no reproof, but Elly winced. She forced her feet back into motion, nearly tripping again in haste. She didn't respond, but the answers ran through her mind anyway: because we spent a small fortune reinforcing this place, because we invested more time and men than we could afford to upgrading equipment, because they said the keep was _ready_…

She recognized the man waiting for her at the gates. Garevel seemed to have aged years since she'd last seen him, just a week ago. "Captain. I'd hoped you and your men would get here in time to make a difference…"

Garevel looked over her party. "The Vigil held, Commander. But the cost was high."

Elly glanced over her shoulder involuntarily. Tired looking people were still dragging wood in from the forest to the southeast, using it to build more pyres as best they could. They wore cloths tied over their noses and mouths; despite a steady wind, the smoke- and ash-filled air was suffocating. Even more tired looking were the soldiers that guarded them, keeping an eye out for lingering darkspawn. Elly wrenched her eyes from the doleful site. "I'm sorry. But where is Varel? And… the other Wardens?"

Garevel's face darkened with grief. "Seneschal Varel… didn't make it, Commander."

"Not Varel…?" Elly shook her head, but the news refused to sink in. She wasn't sure if that was reproach she heard in Garevel's statement; he'd argued that she should return and defend the Vigil, and only grudgingly relented to her decision to save Amaranthine. She gulped in mouthfuls of filthy air, but none of it made it to her lungs. "And the Wardens?"

"The Wardens live. Except for one that was already dead. We found Kristoff's body, but there was no trace of the… spirit that had been occupying it."

She knew she had no right to feel relief, not right there with the funeral pyres burning at her back, but she did. Cullen lived. As did Anders, and Nathaniel. "And the rest?"

"We lost two thirds of the knights, three quarters of the infantry, and nearly the entire militia. Lord Eddelbrek hadn't left yet when the army was spotted. He lost half his men, and barely survived himself. There were a number of other nobles here as well, for the war council. Those who didn't make it… You may want to write to their families yourself."

"I..." Words deserted her. The numbers were simply overwhelming. The armies had suffered great losses in Denerim, but she hadn't been responsible for those forces. Here, at the Vigil, every death was on _her_ shoulders. The captain was still waiting for her response, so she pushed one through the thickness in her throat. "I understand."

"There's also an Orlesian Warden here. He arrived shortly before the darkspawn army. He says he has a message for you."

For a panicked moment, Elly thought the Wardens already knew. But, no, it had to be a response to the letter she sent. He had dreadful timing. Too late to be of any use, and a messenger was harder to ignore than a message. "I'll have to see him, then," she muttered, meaning to put it off for as long as possible.

Picking her way through the courtyard, Elly could barely stand to look where she was walking. Bodies had been dragged away immediately, to prevent further spread of the darkspawn corruption. Weapons and shields lay more or less where they'd fallen. Armor, stripped from the fallen, was tossed where convenient. Where narrow paths had been cleared in the debris, she found the ground spotted rusty brown.

The keep itself was intact. The Vigil's forces had made their stand in the courtyard, where they could take cover in the outlying buildings, make full use of their archers and employ Dworkin's explosives. Aside from the foul air and empty hallways, the interior of the keep looked much like she'd left it. Elly wasn't sure when she separated from Oghren, Velanna and Sigrun, but she found herself wandering the deserted corridors alone.

Her feet took her to infirmary while her mind still reeled. She walked by cot after cot, searching. It was odd not to find Cullen here, given his record for injuries. The thought that Garevel might have been mistaken stirred her muddled mind, but she refused to acknowledge it.

Elly stopped by a cot stuck halfway into the closet, examining its robed occupant. Anders slept sprawled haphazardly across it, one leg hanging off the side and his head cushioned by a forearm. Even asleep he looked ragged and stretched too thin. She started to back away silently, but he startled and sat up. "Anders, are you alright? Were you injured?"

"No…" His bleary gaze swept the room, checking on the infirmary's other occupants. "I must've passed out. I did what I could here. Not enough, but I…"

"I'm sure you did your best." Elly awkwardly placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry I wasn't here to help."

He focused on her face and his gaze turned piercing. "You were… Is the darkspawn responsible for this dead?"

"The Mother is dead. It was her army." His sudden intensity disturbed her, and she drew her hand back. "Anders, are you alright?"

The sharpness faded so quickly, Elly had to wonder if it had been there at all. Anders was too fatigued to focus. "I'm fine. Just exhausted."

"It's no wonder, with everything…" She trailed off weakly, indicating the infirmary and then the rest of the keep with a hand gesture. "Can I help with anything?"

"There are some with minor injuries. If you healed them they might be fit enough to fight again. They are… in the barracks, I think. I lost track after we ran out of room in here."

Elly chewed at her lower lip. She took a second, closer look at the infirmary. The room was packed, and this wasn't even all of the wounded. "I'm sorry," she said again, though the word seemed to be losing meaning through repetition. How much of this could have been avoided, if she'd chosen to defend the keep instead? "I'll head to the barracks, but tell me… Are Cullen and Nathaniel alright?"

"They were fine, when I saw them last." Anders slumped back on the cot with a sigh.

By the time Elly finished tending to the injured in the barracks, an empty cot was starting to sound appealing. A few hours work had gotten most of them fit enough for scouting. The darkspawn had retreated back from the Vigil, but they needed eyes in the field to confirm they'd gone back underground.

While the soldiers didn't appreciate being sent out, they thanked her for the healing all the same. It made Elly uneasy; she felt she owed them some sort of apology. She retreated to the empty hallways as soon as she could, hoping her room hadn't been taken in the shuffle. She'd almost reached her door when an unfamiliar man stepped into the hallway, blocking her path.

"Are you the Warden Commander?"

The Orlesian accent and the Grey Warden crest on his breastplate gave him away. Elly gave her bedroom door one last, lingering look before giving him her attention. "Yes. I assume this is about the letter I sent."

"Gerod Caron," he introduced himself. "Your letter did stir up some concern. I've been sent to brief you. Also, you should be aware that a delegation from Weisshaupt is on the way. You'll need to make arrangements for them."

As if one wasn't bad enough, there was an entire delegation of Wardens heading here? And from Weisshaupt? Elly held up a hand to stall him. "I don't think…"

Gerod cleared his throat loudly, cutting short her objections. "This emissary you wrote of… We believe it may be a creature the Wardens encountered before. It called itself the Architect."

"No kidding," Elly snapped without thinking. She was tired, scared, and quite beyond rational thought.

"We have good reason to believe this Architect creature is extremely dangerous. Other Wardens have… gone astray, after coming into contact with it."

"You don't say?" The absurdity of hearing all this _now_ hit hard. A short, nervous giggle escaped, sharp as the edge of a knife.

"I'm concerned that you aren't taking this matter seriously."

"Is taking an entire month to get here taking it seriously? If you had arrived even a week ago…" Elly pinched the bridge of her nose. She was in no condition to explain why he was too late tonight. "Tomorrow, please." She fled before the Orlesian could respond.

Elly slipped into the bedroom and threw the bolt. She decided washing up was more effort than it was worth, and sank into the bed still clothed and dusty from the road.

Someone knocked at her door, but she ignored it, pulling the pillow over her head to muffle the noise.


	19. Take This Job and Shove It

**Take This Job and Shove It**

Elly found herself at the largest tree near the keep. They'd had some of the land around the Vigil cleared for defensive purposes, but this giant remained. She rested a hand on its trunk. The bark was worn smooth, running down to the ground where the roots jutted from the soil like mountain ranges in miniature. She curled up in a gap between the roots, as she did with the vhenadahl during her childhood.

There was little chance of Gerod finding her out here. She settled back to watch the sun curve towards the horizon. The only thing to mar the peaceful evening was the clomp of plate boots across packed earth.

Elly faced the incoming footsteps reluctantly. A flash of copper hair lifted her heart, only to cause it to sink again. As glad as she was to see Cullen alive and well, she did not want to face him right now. Her anxiety proved prescient when his first words to her were: "what did you do?"

She dug at the dirt beside her with a nearby twig. "Who told you?"

"No one's told me anything. What's going on? This can't just be about the keep."

"_Just_ be about the keep?" Elly exclaimed.

His haunted gaze was dragged back to the keep. Fires still flickered by the road, though a fresh breeze from the forest kept the air around them clear. "Perhaps you should've listened to Garevel," he mumbled. He turned thoughts and eyes both away from the Vigil. "But I can't fault you for wanting to save the city. There has to be something else, to send you into hiding. I saw you speaking with that Orlesian last night…"

Elly had assumed it was Gerod who'd knocked on the door, but perhaps she'd been mistaken. "I had no idea you were around."

"I saw you fleeing him as I came around the corner."

"There's a delegation on the way. From Weisshaupt." Elly avoided his true question. She found it unfair that he could read her so well, while she couldn't read anyone, especially him, accurately.

"Elly…" he pressed.

She indulged in a little childish eye rolling. "Alright. I've made yet another truly awful decision. I had the Architect right in front of me, and I didn't kill him. I let him go. Happy now?"

"The Architect?"

Elly didn't want to explain. She flicked away the shovel-twig and worried at a piece of bark instead. She tried to ignore him, but he was watching. Waiting. She sighed and relented. "That emissary that captured us for experiments."

She'd expected an explosion, but he was utterly still. Somehow that was more unnerving. "Why?" he demanded in a low, sharp tone. "Why would you do such a thing?"

Elly leaned back against the tree, wishing she'd fall right into it like Velanna sank into the ground. Now that it was out in the open, continuing the discussion seemed unnecessary. The landscape took on a dusky blush as the sun sank lower. "Does it matter?"

A sharp sound of disbelief cut the air. Cullen stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the landscape. "How can you ask that?"

"I don't see how it makes a difference now." She craned her neck to peer between his mail boots, where she could still see a little of the sunset. "You'll yell at me. The Wardens will… punish me somehow, I suppose. Nothing I say will change any of it." She closed her eyes; there was something oddly comforting about resignation.

"You can't really mean that," Cullen protested.

Elly's laugh rang sour. "Can't I?" The answering silence grew until it got on her nerves. "Very well, then. The Architect was trying to find a way to stop the Blights. It thought darkspawn could live in peace with us. It offered us aid against the Mother, and I accepted." She tried to nudge his shin away with her foot, but he didn't budge. "Now, be quick at marveling about what an idiot I am, and leave me be."

Cullen was silent for a long time. He stubbornly continued to block the coloring sky. "That's it? You're just giving up, then?"

It was a tone of voice that should be reserved for someone who kicked puppies. Elly looked at him in surprise. "Why does it matter? Whether I give up or not, I'm done as soon as the other Wardens get here."

His hands clenched in frustration. "That has _nothing_ to do with it!"

"It does though." She wrapped her arms around her knees and frowned at him. He made it difficult to maintain her newfound indifference. "What exactly do you expect me to do?"

Cullen sighed and settled into an uncomfortable looking crouch. She found it impossible to resume watching the sun set over his head; her eyes were drawn to his. He waited until he held her attention. "You don't think you should try to fix your mistake?"

"The Architect is gone, Cullen. He's slipped the Wardens before. Just ask Gerod, if you don't believe me." Elly blithely ignored the part where she sounded like a whiny adolescent.

"There are… other mistakes you could work on."

Elly frowned at him until she caught his meaning. "Are you talking about Morrigan? You can't expect me to hunt my friend down like some savage wolf."

"Your friend?" Cullen shook his head. "She got what she wanted from you and left."

"She did not." Elly struggled to keep her voice steady. He didn't just treat her like a child, he had a tendency to make her feel like one as well. "She came to Denerim with us. She was willing to face the archdemon!"

"The better to enact her plan, I'm sure."

"Stop it!" Elly's fingers clenched at her robe where it stretched across her knees. "You don't know her."

"And you do? Can you honestly say that?"

"Well, she didn't share _everything_, but…"

"Unless you know more than you've let on, I'd say she hardly shared anything!"

"You're one to talk, with your weighted silences and your stupid stony face!" She blushed at her own outburst.

"Elly, don't," Cullen grumbled. "This isn't about me."

"Maybe it should be about you, and why you feel you have the right to lecture me. You wield guilt like a Revered Mother."

Cullen finally lost his temper. "Blight it! You listen to every one of your dubious, suspect companions. You jump to grant their every wish, no matter the danger to yourself or others! And you can't even hear me out when I'm trying to help you?"

"Scolding me like a child _doesn't help._" She looked at the keep pointedly. "Besides, they're my friends. What are you?"

He caught one of her hands between his two gauntleted ones, mouth working helplessly but emitting no sound.

Elly shook her head. "I can't decipher your silences, Cullen."

"I can't…" He shrugged, holding back. "You know that."

"No, I don't." She tried and failed to reclaim her hand. "First, you leave me alone. Floundering. And then I slip up, and you take it as some personal insult." She kept a tight rein on her magic, but her voice rose unchecked. "If you won't help me, leave me be!"

He released her hand, but rather than withdraw, he chose to settle into a more comfortable position on the ground.

Elly considered storming off, but the thought rankled. She'd found this place; _he_ should be the one to go. He calmly sat in front of her, and she didn't have the faintest idea what he meant by it. She was a mess, and was sure she looked it. Cullen, on the other hand, looked collected as ever. "You know, Anders thinks I should use my influence to help improve things for mages," she began, trying to needle him into showing some expression.

Cullen's brows lifted at the non sequitur. He didn't take her bait. "And?"

Elly grimaced. "I told him I didn't think anyone would listen to a _mage_ arguing for better treatment for mages."

"I see."

His calmness was infuriating. "Also," Elly added, in a sharp voice, "I'm done with this commander business. I quit."

"I didn't realize you could quit the Wardens."

"I can certainly try."

"And then you'll do what?"

"Besides run from the other Wardens? I don't know." She grunted in exasperation. "How can you just sit there like that?"

"I've had a lot of practice standing still and being quiet. Sitting is even easier." He caught her glare and shook his head. "You said I shouldn't scold you. I'm not. Happy?"

"No," she admitted.

Cullen spread his hands, irritation leaking through. "So what do you want from me?"

Elly dropped her gaze to her knees, embarrassed. "You already know."

His sigh sounded exasperated. "And you know I can't-"

Elly's voice rose with desperation, drowning out his protests. "But what if I can promise? If I quit the Wardens, I can!"

"Promise what?"

"What you asked me to," Elly explained, speaking so fast now that the words began to run together. "You asked if I could promise to never do something like the deal with Morrigan again."

"I'd forgotten," he said softly. "But… are you asking me to abandon the Wardens as well?" His control crumbled, exposing a misery he'd never wanted to let her see. "How many oaths would you have me break?"

His pained expression hit like a blow to the gut. She deflated. "No. No, Cullen, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…" But she'd done it anyway. She'd been so preoccupied with her own feelings that she hadn't considered what might be going on behind that grim templar mask of his.

Cullen's face stiffened again. Despite struggling to break through this false front, Elly experienced a purely selfish sense of relief when it returned. And then he said the last thing she expected. "One condition."

Elly rocked back in surprise. She caught his meaning immediately, for once. "Morrigan," she said, sadly.

"You admitted it was a mistake," he pointed out mildly, not pressing her.

Elly hadn't yet decided it was a mistake. But she feared it might be. This fear didn't spring from logic, and yet it plagued her. She didn't correct Cullen's interpretation, struggling instead to clear an ever-tightening throat. "Alright."

"Alright," he echoed her slowly, as if he couldn't believe what was coming from his mouth.

The sun sank below the horizon, dragging the last muted streaks of light with it. Burgeoning darkness and doubt made Elly fidget in discomfort. "Cullen, if you don't want to-"

Elly hadn't seen him pull his gauntlet off, but it was skin, not metal, that gently covered her mouth. "Let it rest," he whispered. The growing dark encouraged silence.

She pulled his fingers back just enough to press a soft kiss on them. It was getting difficult to see with night pouring in, but she was sure he smiled. And that was all the encouragement she needed.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for reading and I really appreciate the reviews!_

_I'd planned to use this fic to wrap up my Warden's story. Unfortunately halfway through writing this, DA2 was released and I went crazy with all kinds of ideas for connecting this story to DA2. So there may not be much more of Elly, but there could be more of Cullen and the DA2 gang coming._


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